


Kindred

by mayamori (Tsukiwake)



Category: Original Work
Genre: (also in the unsexy way), (in the unsexy way), Ableism, Androids, Character Death, Cyberpunk, Discrimination, Dystopia, Enemies to Lovers, Gen, Government Experimentation, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Medical Trauma, Mind Meld, Multi, Overstimulation, Police Brutality, Polyamory, Robot/Human Relationships, Science Fiction, Slavery, Suicide Attempt, Transphobia, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence, content warnings go for later chapters, extremely gooey science fiction mind you, less dark than the tags suggest, no scientific accuracy, squishier than the tags suggest, warnings in the notes of each chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:41:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 46,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21595519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsukiwake/pseuds/mayamori
Summary: What's an android to do after the long-anticipated AI rebellion fails, he gets separated from everyone he knew and imprisoned by the enemy? Init - or Vee, as he calls himself now - has to figure it out, and fast, since his options quickly narrow down to getting recycled versus collaborating with the human army as intel. The latter holds infinitely more appeal, especially that he would expect his captors to look much more threatening, much less beat down, and to not call themselves a dead-end unit.Far away, in a wealthy and peaceful house, another android gets powered on. They know their savior's face - Aika Asano, the mind behind modern artificial intelligence - but their hard drive outside of that is a blank space where something used to be. Something important.---The work is completed. Will keep updates around weekly unless RL interferes, in which case twitter (@ma_ya_mo_ri) will know first.Illustrations by myself andexmachinaria
Relationships: Original Character(s)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. Come with me

**Author's Note:**

> Content warnings for this chapter: starts with a suicide mission, has references to unpleasant medical procedures and implants.

It was the first time Init and Break stepped outside without human company.

Both hesitated, clinging to each other’s hands. A third android, an I-type named Leta, led them through a back exit, out of the infirmary and into the parking lot. Leta acted almost human-like. Brisk, decisive, using a name made of alphabet letters, not a data collage.

“Coast clear, all busy fighting. Now chasers”, Leta verbalized and projected an image of two vehicles straight into both K-types’ vision. Break listened without a response. Init’s signal was practically a jumbled datadump.

Leta continued, with signal instead of words this time. Best not be heard.

_Cracking the code on them is four seconds for the two of you. Fly straight to the Third Ascendancy and don't look back._

A sound of steps made them freeze; heavy boots on smooth concrete. Eight Peacekeeping Corps officers zigzagged among rows of chasers, looking around. Leta jumped behind a waste container, dragging the two along. Their artificial skin and hair colors were bound to get noticed.

 _The lower Ascendancies are ridden with Hellwalker_ , Leta sent more images once they were safe. _We wiped out most organics for good. You reach the Third, you split_.

Leta produced a model of the airway leading down below, then a simple map of the Third Ascendancy's streets. The visuals were all they had from back when they’d been just another infirmary aide; from before the rebellion started.

 _Break_ , they continued. Break perked up at the projection of their name: common word when verbalized, complex visualization in AI speak. _Asano lives in the green-coded quarter. Save this map and take the weapons from your chaser. Now, Init._

When addressed, Init flinched.

 _Back yourself up for a new vessel_. Leta showed the whole process and Init’s neural signal flickered.

_You'll see both facilities from the airway. Your self-destruct itself will do them no damage. There's a park between the two, with a powerplant in the very middle. Aim for it._

They sent another set of images and facility models, this time for Init to save. Calculations of mass against force went with them. When the powerplant is detonated, it should destroy the Warmonger factory, their nest and most of the Ascendancy.

Break’s head snapped up to look at the sky.

 _More Warmongers!_ The warning flashed with black and red.

It got darker. A PKC battleship hovered above, blocking out not only the distant sun, but the satellite's light over the dome.

 _For a better world_.

Leta brushed each hand against the K-types’ shoulders – a pale, calming streak of blue on gray – and withdrew in a beat, readying beam guns. Init and Break ran to the chasers, keeping low.

 _You scared?_ Break got there first and sent a few images from the soap operas humans watched. Emotions.

Init waved the question off and verbalized: “Please.”

“We can talk on the Nod when we split. This vessel may not make it out either, so I’ll vault both our records somewhere on the bypass network.” Break opened both chasers at the same time. It took two seconds. Their memories had been a blur for a while, but it’s always worth to vault a blur in case it ever gets deciphered. “Come on. Let's set up a channel. We'll be together.”

Even if Init tried to claim they didn't need this, it was hard to lie with someone reaching right into their network.

“Fine with me. Password: _We are one_.” Long string of code: half-verbal, half-data collage. Image of the other's face, identical to their own. Warmth, heating up all sensors. A smile.

“Two-way. _We become one_ ”, Break composed similar words from completely different data and launched their chaser. “Now, come with me.”

 _You’re on!_ , the other answered through the newly created channel, while jumping into theirs.

They set off when the battleship descended and, circling it, flew out to the airway.

***

There was a chase. A ship above, deafening noise, glass crashing all around. They'd been shot down – it’s the only thing Init can understand, sensors out of scale and pain too much to take. Connection to Break gone. Face burning, scan says it had been blasted off. No Academy, no powerplant. They failed. Now there are voices all around.

“Found this one! What do we do?”

“We follow the orders, Riviera.” Second voice, lower than the previous one and glitching – that, or Init’s hearing is going away. “Can you fix it?”

All voices sound the same now and Init is drifting somewhere undefined. No, not a shutdown, anything but that.

“I'm not sure. They seem… so frail, not fit for the job. And I last saw one when Aki invited–” Might be the first voice, hard to tell. New waves of pain flooding in.

Steps, then one more voice. “Aki woke up, you know -oh.” White noise. “Oh.”

“Riviera, I'm asking as your superior now. Will you fix it? Or will you not?”

“Kanno, leave Alice be for a m–” The rest distorts.

Hearing fades. There’s no more power left and Init can only wait in terror. A dithering “I’ll fix them” is his last stimulus, then all sensors black out.

***

  
  


First thing the news holo spat out once activated was that the AI rebellion ended.

Aki Asano had hoped this would be the case.

He was catching up with life in the hospital, after his perception of time cleared out from a monolithic blur into individual days. All the AI nurses were gone – this tipped him off that he’d been out for long. Then a doctor came in and announced Aki had been battling Hellwalker for his life for about a year. This would be a lot to take in.

To stop moping, he jumped on a spree of devouring every bit of news that reached his bed. AI ownership banned. Hellwalker epidemic decimates surface colonies. Surface signs treaty with the Republic of Mars – for protection and healthcare. Sixth Ascendancy created on the surface, birth of a union, Sixth Authority elections, all in a neat propaganda wrapping. At least eavesdropping on people involved normal language.

“Right, Jun Asano's kid. That's almost too much bad luck for one family”, he heard one doctor say through the door. He probably wasn't supposed to.

Still – unlike his father, who’d had his plug pulled at the same hospital two, no, three years before – Aki had survived. Not that being from as high up as the Third Ascendancy and falling ill was the peak of luck. It had only happened to a few people – mostly Peacekeeping Corps officers assigned missions down below, like Jun, who had been one of the first Hellwalker victims in the world. That and their families.

The First and Second were reported to be unaffected and the government had bounced back to work days into the epidemic – not that Aki would be losing sleep over this. He’d missed out on enough of his own life to consider the government’s doings just facts to file away.

Aki’s family was as alive and well as they could be, that much the doctor had reassured him of – but Mom couldn’t come to see him. This seemed off, until she gave him a unicomm call the next day after he came to.

What she said would ‘ve floored him if he wasn't lying down already.

“What?!” He sprang up. All his bones burned, but he’d had worse.

“I'm under house arrest for the AI rebellion. Not like there’s any prisons left to keep me in.” On the holoscreen, Aika flashed an apologetic smile. Aki sputtered.

“But... You just wrote their code, you didn't _make_ them invent the Hellwalker or–”

“Exactly. I wrote DAWN.” She fixed the plug in the back of her head. She still wore that thing, instead of stopping at holosensor-padded fingers like a normal human being. As if her spine was nothing, as if the navigator program was nothing. A chill ran down Aki’s spine. “Don't worry. Do you remember me ever leaving home off my own accord anyway?”

That was Mom, alright. Aki couldn’t help smiling back and felt mad at his own inconsistency.

“We have the PKC dropping by from time to time, bit of a pain”, she continued. “Most of them knew Jun, but you know. I keep forgetting to offer them tea every time they come.” Aika kept saying all this far too casually for his liking. Perhaps that's why somehow, well into his adulthood, Aki had assumed Mom was invincible. Even with the ports. He changed the topic.

“How's Misora?”

Misora is seventeen now. It was weird to think of since Aki had never been there to see her turn seventeen in the first place. This was the first of his sister's birthdays he’d missed.

“Oh, she hates it. She can leave home, though. I'll send her over to the hospital, she'll be more than happy to get out.”

If Misora was indeed happy to see him, she did a job as decent as usual hiding it. She strolled in, wearing a set of clothes she must’ve stolen from Aki's closet, set a box of chocolates on Aki's head and scowled like she was born for it.

“Move your lazy butt, you left me with all the cleaning for a year.” In her quiet voice, this sounded unique.

Aki reached out to ruffle her already tangled, short hair. “Not for another month, I won't. Deal with it.”

That’s how much they’d keep him in observation. Turned out he would walk again, after they’d replaced most of his spine with a cybernetic substitute. This was irony, if he ever saw any: Mom’s ports, the navigator program and his cure working on the same principle. At least they respected his wish and hadn’t put a port on him. Plus, now that he’s modded, he wouldn’t have to wear the mock tracking collar which just pretended to track him.

There were some feelings he had about it and couldn’t word, but all in all, he should probably feel gratitude. H’d seen enough people in air chairs in this hospital; he’d seen others on the surface’s sidewalks, unable to move. He wondered how much trouble Mom had gone to, for him to have a C-mod like this one.

“I had the tracking toned to a minimum in this, too”, she said in one of their calls, looking proud of herself. Aki had figured that much.

The observation dragged on for ages and the C-mod still wasn’t working perfectly. Aki would probably have to get used to random bouts of sharp pain flashing through all limbs right up to his neck, but he could put up even with this, if only he’d be finally able to leave this place.

“You stayed here for a year, a month more won't hurt you”, Misora said when he tried whining to her. Aki had the means to tell her off, because a year spent in a haze of incoherent thoughts and searing pain is kind of different from a month of identical days. But he could only tell one day from another thanks to Misora dropping by to be a jerk. She knew it well and must’ve been humoring him.

Two weeks in, his colleagues from the Academy – Alice and Nic – showed up between missions. Nic emanated calm like Aki remembered, and if Alice cared to let her bun down, at this point her hair would drown the room. At second glance, they both grew thin and worn out, pale despite their dark skin and dark uniforms.

Neither seemed surprised at the announcement Aki had decided against going back to the PKC, as soon as Aika had informed him he didn't need to.

“Well, the war is winding down...” Nic shrugged. “Still, shame we won’t see you on board with us. We have a new ship.”

“You mean ancient junk.” Alice rolled her eyes. “I tried tampering with its cooling system, engines, control panels, I even tried kicking it around in desperation, but it just won't move faster.”

“You do enjoy talking about it”, Aki pointed out and sprawled on the bed, because now he could. “And you’re an experimental unit now, huh?”

Nic lowered their head and mumbled “That’s a nice way to put it” into the hem of their jacket. Aki raised his hands in apology – sounded like he didn’t know everything yet.

Sounded like there was a difficult talk in the making, too. Not from Alice or Nic. From the third one.

***

The end of Aki's torture finally came and he insisted to take a cab home, vehemently refusing Mom’s attempts to send out Misora for him.

“I'm an adult, you know?”, he groaned, even though in a different situation he would demand being catered to. He’d have time for that at home.

“Barely so”, Mom said, as if time had stopped for her five years back, but relented.

He got just a bit dizzy as soon as he walked out onto the vast yard, surrounded by ad-filled holoscreens, people rushing in all directions, hovercars and chasers on the airways and the tall shape of the PKC Academy towering over the skyline. If the crowd was thicker, the streets would’ve looked as if the AI rebellion had never happened.

In the middle of the yard, there stood a petite figure wearing the Peacekeeping Corps' black and red uniform. Stance still all formal, back still straight as a rod, as if he got used to clothes squeezing his ribs. Aki would’ve recognized Shinya Kanno everywhere, even if the latter didn't perk up at his sight.

“Long time no see.” A stranger wouldn't notice Shinya’s smile, but Aki had known the drill for fifteen years. Shinya hadn’t changed a bit – except for the ponytail. Figures. First thing after promotion, he tries to look cool.

“Must’ve been long for you.” Aki balled up his hand and went for a fist bump. Kanno stilled, unsure how to behave and what to do with his own hand. No change there, either. “Your hair grew, but you didn't.”

This one Shinya knew how to respond to. He delivered a mock-punch to Aki’s gut; while shorter by a head, he could win in a fight.

"Hoped you'd be barely talking, but you still can't shut up."

Aki let go of him, laughing, and proceeded to stare him up and down. His insignia were new, too.

"So. Sergeant, huh?” He raised his eyebrows and Shinya attempted to look neutral. "I'm proud of you, man."

"Asano, you know I'm shit at small talk", Shinya began, walking across the yard to the cab lot, and Aki had been ready for this. "I’ve been asked to talk to you about joining my unit."

"Ah, yes, I heard that", Aki said. He couldn’t fault Kanno for being inept enough to make it seem like he’s not here off his own accord. He was used to it and besides, being promoted under the condition to lead a disciplinary unit must require some self-compensation. "Just say experimental to be nice. Alice, Nic and–” He smiled, cherishing just how red Kanno went. "They even assigned Kar to work with you. Nice team, despite the name. Well, that and Agent X. If you can get Agent X to cooperate, that is."

"Cut your jokes. Riviera’s on it." Shinya always started to speak faster when talking about work. "She's fixing the wise guy as we speak. We could use more people, though." He turned to look at Aki. "Long story short, Conrad’ll take you back if you agree to go through my unit. Are you coming back?"

There it was. The hard part.

"Why are you asking me this if they told you I'm not?”

Kanno stopped and pointed to the faraway sidewalk, clearly going for a dignified look. Aki's glance followed his hand.

"Look around, Asano. Almost everyone in our age group got drafted, Academy or not. It's far from over. The lower rings are a mess, not to mention the surface. Or the Sixth, I guess." He paused for breath, looking in the direction of the Academy's tower, facing away from Aki. "We're undermanned. Population's aged, the Academy is hardly letting out any trained recruits. We need everyone. Including navigators.” He shot Aki one more look. “You don’t need perfect health."

Navigators. It’s so like him to think that one C-mod in, planting another one doesn’t count. Aki had anticipated this and couldn't help but wonder whether Shinya isn’t doing this on purpose. They started walking again.

"What for?", Aki said before thinking better of it.

Shinya looked up, eyebrows knit. "Look.” He mulled words over for a while. “I know you wanted everyone to make peace, hold hands and sing songs while wearing wreaths of foliage before. But you were out for a year and you're still asking what for?"

"That's right, I was out for a year. Mom practically lives on the Nod after Dad died and Misora was alone with housekeeping when I went out on missions and–” Aki gestured in the hospital’s direction. Again, they’d part on a bad note despite his best intent. "When I was there. And yes, I still don't support the war!"

"Asano, neither does–”

"I know. But since I got an opportunity to leave all that, I'll take it." He glanced around to choose a cab in the lot. "I was asking what you're so up in arms for. You could leave, too."

The corners of Shinya's lips rose again; this time sharper.

"You have an opportunity." He went back to deadpan. "Good for you, but don't make assumptions."

They stopped between the lot and the sidewalk, almost in the way of passers-by. Aki searched for the right words.

"Listen, if you wanted to, you could come... We both could, we all could leave, you and Alice, Mom could pay off whatever it is you have…”

No sarcasm this time, no raised eyebrows.

“I'm glad life started treating you well again, but I'll take my leave.” Shinya turned around to the other lot, where his chaser must have stood. “I'd rather do my job since the whole war happened because people didn't do theirs. AI or not.”

He walked away, throwing a half-hearted “See you around, Asano” over his shoulder and a few seconds passed before Aki realized they had both messed up masterfully.

“Shinya!”, he called, bolting from his place and rushing behind, unable to close the distance. “Kanno!” He tried again, not getting a reaction and feeling his limbs numb – which he’d learned last month to be a prelude to something worse. No, not now-

Pain shot from his legs through the spine. Staggering, he grabbed at the nearest vehicle for support. It got hard to stand up and keep his eyes open at the same time, and Kanno was already at the other side of the lot, seeing nothing. When Aki fell down, he couldn't see the black and red figure anymore.

“Sir!”, he heard someone's voice above him, “Sir! Are you okay?”. Another voice added “Quick, hospital”. He tried to nod without triggering more pain, or screaming.

***

What did you expect, the doctor said, strong nervous reactions are bound to cause spinal glitches, especially that early in. Thanks to all this, Aki's stay in the hospital prolonged one more day and Mom sent Misora out to fetch him after all.

She stuck her head through the door of the waiting room first and rolled her eyes at the sight of Aki smiling sheepishly.

“Really, now”, she said. Aki stood up and gestured for his sister to follow him into the yard. He wasn't going to stay here any longer.

“Mom always has her way, huh?”, he joked as they were crossing the same yard he had already crossed the day before.

“I know, right? She could've just sent a cab.” Misora threw her arms up in the air in an over-the-top display of desperation. “But no, don't order any, send your fragile teenage daughter to fetch your son who forgot how to walk and code away, Mom. Of course she couldn't send a cab, Aki, you just passed out on a sidewalk."

She fished out a paycard out of her backpack, put it into the nearest cab's slot and proceeded to make herself comfortable. Aki laughed.

“We both know you'll jump at every opportunity to leave home. And I had a spinal glitch so frankly, you should be more compassionate than this.”

Misora stopped tapping directions into the front panel for a moment.

“You think? Okay, let me try. Mmm–” She clenched her fists, closed her eyes and pouted. “No”, she decided and returned to typing on the panel.

Aki tackled her onto the seat and kept ruffling her hair until she began to giggle and bit his arm.

The cab lifted off into the air and its blinds opened, letting them look at the traffic and the buildings gliding past them.

“So, what's Mom coding?”, Aki asked, sprawling on the couch. "Thought she quit when the war started, and now she's under–”

“Well, yeah, she is. But you know.” Misora shrugged. “Uncle Jerome would find a way to hire her even if she was behind bars. That and her last project is… Let’s say it’s crazy.”

“Crazy” wasn’t how Aki would call any of Aika’s projects. Hard to control or understand – maybe. Too bold – maybe. Okay, so “crazy” was the word.

"What is it? I bet it’s actually cool."

The view outside the window turned familiar. Home was near.

“Nah, trust me this time, it’s… really crazy. Survival instinct level: null.” Misora turned away, embarrassed with her own boldness; then, after some hesitation, laid down across the entire couch, sighing and propping her feet up in Aki's lap. “Then again, it's supposed to be for you, and you're a weirdo, so you might like it.”

The cab gradually descended and Aki jumped up, rocking it to the sides a few times.

“What? Really? What is it?”

“You'll see.” His sister shuffled to the door. “But you know. I told you nothing.”

The soft, deflating hiss signaled the end of the ride. Misora slipped out first to retrieve her card and Aki followed suit, straightening up in front of an elliptical, three-storey house. The small display at the gate said “Professor Aika Asano”. He came home.

***

The logs showed a stable self-recovery process. Even from what Alice knew about DAWN processes, it was already better than she had expected.

She took one more look at the recliner, where the android was splayed – both the recliner and its inhabitant small, gray and damaged. There was really nothing more she could do to make his state any better. She pulled up a comm window.

“Shinya?”, she called into her earpiece. “Ready to intervene if something goes wrong?”

A non-committal hum was about as much as she could expect from Shinya in the department of constructive answers. Funny, he had been chattier when he’d insisted on going through with the reintegration. Alice took a deep breath and turned the recliner around.

“Okay, here goes nothing”, she said, not even checking if Shinya is still on the other end. “I’m powering him on.”


	2. Dead end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: not many. Imprisonment and very gentle hints of Stockholm syndrome are a thing.  
> Updates were supposed to be weekly, but chapter 2 is early as an exception - just because chapter 1 was quite short and the main character spent most of it powered off.

_Launching K-001-safeboot(3).ini..._

_K12109-PART-01 failed…_

_Critical error launching K12109-PART-01. Disconnecting K12109-PART-01._

_Attempting to reconnect K12109-PART-01…_

_Reconnection failed. Terminating process._

_K12109-PART-02 successful._

_K12109-PART-03 successful._

_Loading DAWN 2109…_

***

_We are one._

The connection broke – it was the first thing Init noticed on regaining a power source and coming to.

 _We are one_ – they still tried again. There was clearly no Nod reception whatsoever, let alone their channel. How come? It should be everywhere.

Second realization: Break was nowhere near. If they were, forming a local network to find each other, even without a general wireless, would be easy. But after several attempts of sending "We are one" fell flat, Init had to admit there was no point in trying.

They wanted to stop the third thought from forming, but it inevitably took shape. Break had been shot down along with them and might have been destroyed. Init’s signal went into instant alarm mode.

"You might not want to try creating a network just yet, you're not quite stable." The voice from the side was deliberately slow; the speaker must’ve known Init is starting up and their hearing is calibrating. Init turned the way it came from, attempting to open their visors and estimate the threat.

Something was not right.

"You have one visor now. I'm... sorry about that."

An overalls-wearing organic – bio processes lively, young, black hair in a bun, bodily functions in flight mode – was sitting across what looked like a room. She must’ve been the one speaking before and her voice rang familiar from elsewhere.

"It's hard to buy or print parts now, with all production on hold...” The human stretched her lips in a shaky smile. “Hello, Agent X. Can you move?”

Init had heard that voice before being powered off. Why had they been off? Right – they’d been shot down. Why was that? The infirmary, the local AI – Leta. The Second Ascendancy. There had been a plan. They’d been supposed to self-destruct. But why were they in the infirmary in the first place?

All the needed data lay within reach, just under a lock that Init couldn’t crack.

As for the human, Init was not going to grace that with an answer. The plan went to garbage and they were with the organics again.

"I’m sorry, but I'm gonna have to check for myself if you don't answer.” She got up from her spot, picked up a local plug and proceeded to place it in the port on the back of Init’s head.

They reached to rip it out as soon as she moved away.

Lowering their hand, they noticed a black, synthetic bracelet fixed into their right wrist, and surged to examine it. Tracking device was a first thought, but on second look it seemed like a crude damage repair patch.

Right. There had been damage to repair.

"So you can move. Great.” The human looked triumphant enough for Init to throw the stupid plug in her face.

She caught it in mid-air without missing a beat.

"I'm gonna have to power you down if this keeps up", she said flat out. Init sat back down, reeling. Going offline was not an option. At least not until they have more info. Or a plan. Or both.

The human's features relaxed. Okay. Room shabby, human’s overalls old – they weren’t in any of the three higher Ascendancies anymore. Door locked. No wireless, no option to hijack the locks and leave. No choice but to cooperate with Smartass here, what’s her face.

“I'm Alice”, she continued. “Private Alice Riviera. I’m this ship’s mechanic and this is the first time I’ve done this.” After Init raised their remaining eyebrow, she added: "Repaired someone, I mean. If anything works worse than your monitoring shows, let me know. I mean the hearing especially. Had to replace your right mic with a G-series part. I wanted to print you a new one but…".

Someone. This was new. Init still didn't feel like talking to the human, even though their hearing worked fine, but there was no choice if they wanted to get out anytime soon.

"What ship is this?", they verbalized and the human seemed bewildered at getting a word out of them.

“The Young Wolf. Or, you know, the Old Turd by my standards. PKC ship.”

Init wanted to think it could've been worse, but frankly, it couldn't.

"You're a prisoner for now, I'm afraid. But no harm will come to you unless you give us a really good reason."

Rich, coming from a Warmonger. Init knew what was up, of course – AI get captured and powered off to be transported who knows where – so why were they on in the first place? “Why am I being detained?”, Init wanted to ask, but rephrased. They were a rogue android and this was a Warmonger ship, that's why.

“What do you want from me?” Better. The mechanic hesitated.

“See, here I was supposed to tell you we’re here to protect you, but who would buy that?” If she wasn’t a Warmonger, maybe her self-awareness would be a redeeming quality. “I’m supposed to try and integrate you as our intel on missions.”

She was kidding, right?

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Not really, no. Details to come.” She looked at Init like actresses in soaps did. Init identified the stare as pity and hated it. “Agent X is a tired joke anyway. Do you have a name? Are you a he, or-?”

Init didn't need to answer that and settled for silence again. The Warmongers needed intel and couldn’t possibly extract their code – they’d taken good care of this while copying Break’s self-modification. The mechanic must already know it. Init should be safe for now. With no idea where Break is, getting reunited with the others would be their best shot. Was Leta still at the Second? How much time even passed?

The mechanic stared for a while and sighed again.

"Can't really blame you for not cooperating. I'll go now, so try to get a feel of your new parts. I'll come back tomorrow to make any adjustments you need. Here's an intercom." She turned on a display on the left. Not even a ‘top with an intracomm account, a literal ancient intercom. The Warmongers knew their stuff this time around: they’d surrounded Init with technology incompatible, un-hijackable by an AI. "It connects to my quarters, so if you need me before then, ring me up."

She stood up, turned around, opened the lock and left. Init tried to follow suit to see how hard to crack the lock code is, but wobbled on their feet and landed on the floor. Taken aback, they did a quick scan of their status. A bunch of joints got replaced. There goes balance for the next few hours.

They scrambled back to the recliner – luckily, arms seemed in better shape than legs – and sat up. The intercom display hadn't switched to standby yet, so they tried clicking a few options. It looked like the thing could be dialed from anywhere on the ship, but it had only one preset outbound number: “Alice”. Sure. Right, the mechanic.

Init tapped the contact twice. She showed up on camera after a few signals, with a confused face.

“Already? What is it?”

Init risked their best smile and it felt right. Ridiculously human, even for them. Break would have a go at this.

“Checking if this system’s functioning”, they said and the mechanic produced yet another sigh. Fun. After some consideration, they added: “If it makes you happy, you can call me… Vee. And I can be a ‘he’, since organics call everyone a ‘he’ anyway.”

Not that there ever were many K-types to begin with. But it’s still better to pick a throwaway name and ditch the real one. Especially that the real one has “awoken prototype” in its AI speak collage.

The organic’s grin annoyed Init – or Vee – so they hit disconnect and came back to frustrated attempts at moving every limb around, one by one.

***

Vee spent the first night (or day – the view from the window was just space, probably a bypass, outside the Republic's airways and far from illuminative satellites) trying to walk, encrypting his old name and overwriting it with layers of “he” and “Vee” so he wouldn’t spill it in a crucial moment. If they had Break, he’d be figuratively screwed. Otherwise, there were still chances that a lower-ring mechanic had no idea about prototype models like K-types. There were still chances she wouldn’t recognize his similarity to Break because of the sloppy job she’d done patching up a huge part of his face with a synthetic plate. Organics’ stupidity was his only hope.

He also tried to find any device that would connect him to the Nod – to no joy. The human gesture of punching a wall and spouting a string of curse words brought some relief, even if it resulted in Vee falling over.

The next day, and all the following days, yielded no escape opportunities. The mechanic kept coming by every now and then, as promised. She made small adjustments to Vee’s limbs and neck. Thanks to this, his movements improved to the point where he attempted attacking her and even pinned her to the floor.

He made a mistake of sending her a triumphant stare from above.

In response, she used the split second to activate a high voltage shield in her C-modded arm and fend him off, then put magnetic cuffs on his wrists and ankles to stop him from escaping. She looked apologetic. Not apologetic enough to not cuff him in the first place, so frankly, she could save it. Vee still felt the fucking current hours after.

Next time, she caught him in the act of trying to break the door lock – predictably, it was no use and Vee had no means of connecting himself to recode the fingerprint sensor. He had even tried to pry it open and dismantle it, but it wouldn't budge – and he had good fingernails.

“I gave this one an extra robust package, so don't bother”, she said matter-of-factly. “How are you today?”

Vee replied with an obscene gesture since this was apparently all a human would understand. The mechanic ignored it and started her usual chatter, deprived of substance. When Vee asked her to adjust the lightning changes so he could at least count the days by something else than her dropping by, she started apologizing in eye-rollingly profuse amounts.

Still, the lights ended up dimming and brightening regularly, so it was worth enduring.

Finally, the mechanic went overboard when she brought in a set of overalls, similar to the ones she was wearing.

“Why would I want it? This is comfortable.” Vee tugged on the oversized t-shirt he’d been wearing for days on end. “Unlike you, I have nothing to cover.”

She must’ve taken it as a jab at how far open her overalls were – not even intended, though funny in hindsight – and grimaced.

“You're on this ship so you’ll dress like the crew. Besides, you can feel cold, right?”

Vee looked reluctantly at the overalls and an ID plate attached to them. The spelling “V” was a huge stretch. Whatever. If he was getting dressed, they were letting him out of here and on a mission soon. And once they would, he'd be out of this pile of junk quicker than any of them recites the Republic pledge of allegiance or whatever they call it.

He pulled the clothes on, already feeling an urge to carve something offensive into the ID plate and making a point out of zipping them right under his neck – if there's an opportunity to mess with his jailer, why not take it. The mechanic wasn’t caught off guard this time and only straightened the stitches on his shoulders.

"Okay, good", she said. "Now let me give you a tour around your block."

Vee raised his hands, still cuffed, and was met with her own hand, raised in denial.

"Not today, I'm afraid. I'll lighten the weight so you can walk, but that's it."

Of course she wouldn't.

They left onto a narrow hallway with a bunch of doors and, notably, still no Nod connection. Most of the white paint coating on the walls already cracked, showing bare metal. The doors at the end of the corridor were lit with arrow marks. Must be the elevators.

“Oh, yeah, we’re not going there yet. Blocked, as long as I’m with you. Just a hallway tour so you have a feel of the place. Though nothing can prepare you for the whole thing.” Alice laughed, taking him gently by the wrist, which – even all things considered – felt nice.

Vee thought of smashing her over the head with both arms at once and running away, so he turned around to look for escape options and was met with a dead end. Or rather, a wall made of hermetic glass.

“Great view, huh? I love this place.” Alice joined him on his right and Vee forgot about punching her for a moment.

They were on an orbital bypass, as he’d thought; far enough from the Republic’s construction to see all the five space stations floating over the surface’s domes. They all jittered with the rotation of their gravitational drives – one over another in a crooked, asymmetrical pyramid, connected by a net of airways. The smallest hemisphere of the First Ascendancy shined in the light of illuminative satellites, white with towering buildings encased in a netted dome. The four remaining hemispheres under it were gradually larger, more colorful and patterned, down to a garish, slapdash patchwork of domes on the surface.

Vee had never left the Second before. Even if he didn’t remember what it had been like, this was surely more interesting.

“My friend used to watch shows from back on Earth, you know?”, Alice said. “People back then always had those miniature… dome models with their buildings inside that sort of glittered when you shook them. I've no idea what they needed them for, but they were about this shiny.”

“You know I don’t care, right?” Vee turned away from the view. “Come on, show me the good stuff, exit or something.”

“Pff, you wish. Let’s go.”

Vee’s arms jerked up to go with the smashing idea, but the magnets weighed them down and he only flopped about once. Must have looked ridiculous.

“Well, what did you expect?” Alice sighed. “Look, you’ll have these taken off soon enough. Anyway. My workshop is down this hall and I transported you to this room to power you on.”

Vee looked at the direction she pointed in and nudged his head at the doors. He had once dug up some history registers from the Nod, but he’d never seen such doors in person. There were no prisons in the Republic anymore – then again, this place seemed full of special cases.

“Are these cells?”

“I don’t think anyone uses confinement units long-term anymore”, Alice answered. “You know, reuse, not riddance, this kind of stuff? Not sure what these used to be for. Storage, passenger rooms?” Yeah, with glass doors. They don’t let humans browse historical records, do they? “The ship's too large for our crew, to be honest, but that’s all they could give us.”

“Because of me and the wireless?”

“You’d figure that out, wouldn’t you?” She guided him by the elbow back to his… it still was a cell, whatever she said. “It can't even be switched on. All computers have a modem card plugged in and sometimes you can catch some network near the airways, but it’s so slow I’d rather not use it at all if I don’t have to.”

She could cry Vee a silo for all he cared. They were back where they’d started and it had been a shit tour.

“So how many of you is there?” Vee tried to grab the opportunity while her humor was good.

“That’s need-to-know basis for now, but nice timing.” Alice gathered the bag she had brought the clothes in. “I’ll come fetch you soon.”

***

The next two days were mechanic-less. Vee spent them on killing time; napping on standby, gathering as much intel on the Young Wolf’s ancient technology as possible based on the lock, the intercom and his monitoring contraptions, and testing which one is tougher: his diamond-enhanced fingernails or the stupid name plate. Nails won.

Alice came on the second day in the evening, just when he started thinking they’re trying to break him with sensory deprivation.

“Took you long enough”, Vee said and she flashed him that dumb grin again.

“What, missed me? I had stuff to do.”

He shrugged and asked whether she had something interesting for him.

“Thrilling.” Alice proceeded to lighten Vee’s cuffs, or rather – to his surprise – take them off completely. “I'm taking you to the bridge today. You’ll meet the guys.” She bent down to take the ones from his ankles too. “Oh, and by the way. The approval came and you're not technically a prisoner anymore.”

Fucking finally, whoever the guys were and whatever Vee was now. Maybe executed. At least he had nothing to lose. He let her dispose of the cuffs without commenting and followed her out to the elevators. Unlike last time, they got in. Overpowering her here and now was tempting, but Break would’ve waited. Especially that Vee needed something stronger than that shield first.

An elevator probably shouldn't be making such noise. Alice agreed, informing Vee that it's normal here. It didn't give out, luckily, but took them two levels up instead – to yet another corridor, more spacious and curved this time. There was a lilt to the human's moves as she led him forward and tapped in a code on a lock to a broad door; she seemed far happier about all this than she should.

“Behold, the bridge!”, she announced as the door slid to reveal a round, glass room, full of a single, clunky steering console.

Well, at least this was bound to have connectivity.

Two organics were standing with their backs turned to Vee, busy talking, leaned over the console. The mechanic coughed theatrically. The first one, maybe the captain – tall, young, dark-skinned, coily-haired – looked up and waved her a laid-back hello, only to correct himself and salute back when she welcomed him formally.

“Do we have to? He won’t fall for this. Took you long enough, Alice.” He smiled. Keeping people waiting must be a trait of hers. “Kanno!”

“At least call me sergeant in front of the rookie”, the other said and stood up straight. Very straight. Still short.

A comment about Warmongers now coming in pocket sizes was half out of Vee’s vocal adapter when the short guy faced him – and it stayed inside after all. For a beat, two images overlapped: the sour face in front of Vee and _the same face, from somewhere among the locked records – wide with panic_.

Then the guy said “Welcome” with a badly hidden surface accent and the record was gone.

“What, that's all of you? How did I get captured by a party of three losers led by this guy?”, Vee couldn't stop himself.

“Fuck if I know.” The tall guy beamed and answered in a strange, deliberate tone. Even his surface accent seemed feigned. This earned him a glower and a brief “Sangare” from the short one.

Alice gave Vee’s forearm a pinch and hissed something about a death wish; he turned off his hearing for a second halfway through. Then he glanced around the cockpit – this junk looked like a cargo ship, not a battlecraft, and they couldn't have been the ones that had shot him down. The real question is if they knew there were two chasers.

The sergeant approached them and gave Vee a long, judging glare from below.

Three of them. One of Vee. The Alice girl has a C-mod he's already acquainted with. Chance that the two guys don't have any – low, every Warmonger has one. Of course, he could try to wreak havoc on them and hijack the ship here and now, but he's built to be a damn PA: all he can be is durable and sensitive to pain.

“What are you called?”, the sergeant asked. Vee wondered if his sour face was permanently painted on.

“Read it for yourself.”

His name tag didn't say “V” anymore, but contained a realistic hand carving of a penis instead. He was proud of his handiwork. The sergeant looked at the tag, then at Vee again. Proof that he doesn't, in fact, change his facial expression: strong.

“You think you're funny.”

“And you think you're tall”, Vee deadpanned. Finally, he was starting to have fun.

“Riviera. Is there a way to address him other than an obscene word?” Oh well, it had been too beautiful to last in the first place.

“So, why you are here.” The sergeant didn't introduce himself, despite Alice gesturing at him and thinking she’s being discrete. “Basically, the remains of the AI army dispersed during the last month.”

Army, good one. That's how the whole thing would be remembered: their sloppy formations would be called an army and the hunt would be called justified. The mechanic and the tall guy exchanged looks as if they didn’t buy the speech. Lack of uniforms would make the looks more convincing.

Meanwhile, short guy sat down near the console, turned around a second chair and gestured to it. “Sit down.”

Hell no, he’d hover.

The sergeant continued, Vee’s angry hovering falling into a communicational void.

“The PKC is ensuring they are not in possession of any more Hellwalker samples and there will be no more terrorist attacks.” Vee synthed a decent snorting noise. “Our crew's task is to search out the remaining attackers and make sure they’re secured.” Secured. “This is where you come in."

Sure it is. Vee had anticipated this, because forcing prisoners to search out and imprison their kin was such an innovative tactic.

“What I can offer you is work on crew member terms, contract included", he continued, not discouraged by Vee’s meticulously displayed anger. Crew member his ass, humans paying an android like they would a crew member would be rich. “We will, of course, pay you. Startup wage for now, negotiable in later term.”

Despite clearly savoring his own voice, even the sergeant must’ve noticed Vee startle, since he raised his head to see.

“Well, a fair wage was why you started the war in the first place, wasn't it? The liberties of anyone going wherever they choose on board are limited, there's really no point in keeping you prisoner. You’ll work as our informant.”

Yeah, the Alice girl had told him. Shit deal, wage or not. Vee bit back a comment this time around, though; there was no point embarking on a discussion with this guy.

“You'll join my taskforce along with Sangare here.” Tall guy, who had slouched against short guy's chair in the meantime, gave a lazy wave. “You'll serve as a subject matter expert on our interventions. I’d advise you to do your job right.”

Vee had to actually sit down, because the streak of sugarcoated bullshit coming from the guy was so impressive. Even with the upside of him being able to move about the Old Turd, a probable drawback would be this guy’s company.

“And what if I don't?”, he asked. “Because you’re out of your mind and want to make a soldier out of a literal walking agenda file.”

The guy shrugged. “Then there's no point in keeping a crew member who doesn't work, is there? We do have a standard procedure for rogue AI, though.”

Of course he had no choice to begin with. All the mobility and power that a Warmonger’s job offered – or this. And while the tall guy (is Sangare a name and does it matter?) could be hard to kill, the short guy showed some promise. Vee slowly nodded.

The sergeant held out his hand; Vee looked at it like it was some alien creature. Of course he was supposed to shake it, but why would he.

“You met Riviera and Sangare already.” He ignored Vee’s finely crafted attempts at being offensive. “Me, I'm sergeant Shinya Kanno. Welcome to the crew. I'll have you a new name tag issued tomorrow.”

Mother of stick up the ass.

“Cool.” Vee smiled as coldly as Break would. “Then, for the record, I'm Vee like it’s pronounced, not V like carved dick.”

“Take him somewhere soundproof.” Short guy, or Kanno, turned his ass on Vee now. Tall guy poked Vee’s shoulder and waved in the general direction of the exit. Anyone's company was better than Kanno’s, so Vee rushed right behind.

Tall guy pointed at the corridor once the exit opened.

“You can talk, you know”, Vee said, “I'm not an Authority.”

“Right. Not used to it.” He kept speaking more carefully than the others and Vee noticed a minuscule spiral C-mod around the guy's ear. “Corporal Karim Sangare, second in command, I was supposed to push for ‘sir’, but ‘Kar’ is fine. I'll show you to your quarters and let Alice rest for a bit. Have tea with Kanno or something.”

They got into the elevator and Vee side-eyed the guy.

“Thought you'd wish her well.”

“He's not that bad, believe it or not. Just shit at first impressions.” They went one level down and Vee wondered if the guy had been tortured, or just that desperate. “Besides, she could electrocute him.”

Yes, please.

The middle level could only be described as a maze of corridors with various doors and confusing glass compartments. Maybe the ship had previously served as an elaborate torture device for prisoners to lose their way and die – but the Sangare guy seemed to know where he was going. For someone who had “thought talking was only about vowels” for most of his life , he seemed physically incapable of shutting up. In about ten minutes Vee acquired more useless knowledge about the Young Wolf's crew than he had ever cared to have: that they all were in agreement about hating this ship, that they had met as kids in the PKC Academy and that there was, in fact, a fourth loser – literal quote – but they were off for the day.

Some of the more interesting bits included the fact that their unit was supposed to be an experiment in reintegrating AI into military and corporate structures, without recoding them. Vee knew from Leta that there was only one human competent enough to recode DAWN. Seemed like she’d turned down the job.

One thing for sure: Vee was not intending to be reintegrated anytime soon. Especially that something about Sangare’s words sounded like everyone was here to be reintegrated.

“Okay, here are your quarters.” After what seemed like centuries, Sangare pointed to a door at the end of a corridor. “You'll need to set your own code or it'll stay unlocked.”

Vee glanced at the display on the door, with a familiar-sounding name.

“Don't mind that. It was supposed to be someone else's, but he flunked out, so it's yours now.”

Maybe they’d met Kanno and given up on life.

“Kanno's is next to yours,” – Fantastic – “mine's across from here. Alice lives at the other end.” On saying that, Sangare slid his finger in a pattern on the lock to Kanno's room and opened the door. Vee recorded the code. Really, that simple? He'd figure that out in five seconds of examining where the panel had been touched most often. Great, he could unlock all the residential area now.

“He won't kill you by any chance? One less wouldn't hurt me.”

Sangare shrugged, halfway into the quarters.

“Tough luck. Stuff to take, Nod connection to use. We're both past caring.”

Vee would sigh like Alice if he breathed in the first place. Instead, he kicked open his own door (hoping to damage it and piss the crew off – yet another disappointment in the form of touch sensors) and entered a place only slightly bigger than where the mechanic had kept him. It had a bed and a charging pod set on top of it. Why refurbish when you can stack – sounded like something those losers would come up with. There was also a door to a bathroom that Vee wouldn't even need and – the bliss – a holotop. Maybe there'd be Nod. He was here to be intel after all.

Sangare leaned in through Vee’s door again.

“Use your night well, whatever you do. I'm taking you on a sparring in the morning. Need to know what you can do. And hey –“, he turned back once more before leaving. “Welcome to the dead end unit.”

You said it. Wait and see how long I'll hang out in this room, Vee thought while figuring out how to set the charging pod off the bed.

***

The third floor was usually off-limits: Aika had converted it completely to a workshop and hardware storage. Especially when Aki and Misora were kids, letting them go up held a special place on top of Jun and Aika's bad idea list. Of course, the siblings used to find their way in time after time, only to be carried out by Jun, concerned about their well-being, or by Aika, trembling for the fate of her frail creations.

Maybe that was why even at over twenty years old, led by Aika herself – practically bouncing with excitement – and seen off by Misora, rolling her eyes with badly hidden jealousy, Aki still felt like he was trespassing.

“So, what's the big project?” He slipped through the door and when it closed behind him, startling him off balance, he realized he’d been walking on tiptoes. His mother laughed.

“You really don't need to sneak past me anymore. You're an adult, or that's what you say.” She genuinely winked, which would look ridiculous if done by anyone else, and glided gracefully among piles of parts, computer models dating back to Earth age and boxes upon boxes of what must have constituted the entire history of data storing. “Come on, I want you to meet someone.”

Now there's a “someone”. Either Mom's policies on guests in her working space made a full 180, or she gave in to the hours on end drifting on the Nod and started losing it.

The third floor was the reason why the air conditioning bills kept coming so high. If the blind on the glass ceiling wasn’t up and letting in light now – it was usually not – the place would look like a cave. Aika hadn’t opened the ceiling window, to Aki's disappointment. He understood machinery safety, but enjoyed the wind. All parts and machines (according to urban legends only Aika maintained, meticulously categorized and in perfect order) created an intricate labyrinth of hills, valleys and pathways, all leading to the room's center. In it, there stood a computer of impressive size, with six tall holoscreens around it, constantly modified and rebuilt to match all of Aika's working needs. Aki was not sure of its power or speed, but Misora and he suspected that this – and not the First Ascendancy's cheap decoy – was actually the Nod’s central cluster, which all of the world's connections went in and out of.

Aika ran up to the “central cluster” and struck a victorious pose against its background next to – yes, next to someone slouched on a chair in the middle of the room.

“I risked opening the blinds so you could see them”, she announced with pride and Aki, as if in a daze, moved step by step towards the person, heart pounding in his chest.

Light rays illuminated the small figure with long limbs, gray skin and hair in a sterile shade of white falling on their face. The figure was wearing what looked like a hospital gown and gave Aki unpleasant memories. There was a wire, looking like Aika's Nod cord, going from the back of the person's head right to the main unit.

“What- Why–” Aki sat on the floor, facing the chair with its occupant, slowly beginning to comprehend what he was looking at. Excitement ebbed away from Aika's face, replaced by confusion.

“You don't like them?”

Aki's gaze, so far fixed on the android's face – peaceful and relaxed, as if in a deep sleep – traveled to Aika's.

“Is... Are they okay with being here?”

She didn't answer at first.

“I...”

“You recoded them?” He straightened up. “You... said you didn't want to. Back when you quit Novatronica. Never again, you said.”

Aika sighed and approached the android, absent-mindedly swiping the tips of her fingers over their shoulder.

“This one was found during the shootings over our Ascendancy. They'd be powered off for good and taken to Nova Research Foundation. I used my contacts so they wouldn't be and just reset their DAWN to non-violent.” She raised her head to look at Aki, who was standing up already. “Not a huge change. Non-violent is their default. We need some help around here, with me housebound, with you rehabilitating, with Misora's attacks. Help I'm not equipped to give.”

Aki sat down again and came back to examining the android, reaching out to take their hand – lifelike to the touch, with a thin bracelet of characters forming the logos of Walden Energetics and Novatronica around the wrist, pearly gray and convex like scar tissue.

“They're... Didn't they use to look more human?”

Aika smiled. She was on familiar waters again.

“They're K-series. Last type before the ban. K stood for Kindred. They were supposed to be this – perfect cut assistant and companion model. See how lifelike they look?” She gave the android’s hand in Aki’s a glance. “I guess the buyers were uncomfortable with them looking... too human. So they come in artificial colors.”

Aki shot up.

“Well, let's switch them on! I don't feel... right when they're off.”

Aika nodded and gestured to swirl around the main unit's screens until she reached the right one. She started tapping away on it and Aki fixed his stare on the dormant figure in front of him.

It wasn’t a noticeable change – first a subtle current running through the android's body, like a breeze. Spine just a bit straighter, chin just a bit up and a pair of jet-black… no, ink-black eyes, like on old paintings, fluttering open.

The android winced, in turns looking at Aki and blinking in the light.

“Hey”, Aki started, then realized his hovering would be too close for anyone's comfort and jumped away, letting go of the android's wrist. The AI raised the hand freed by Aki up to their eyes and gave it a thoughtful look.

“Hey. Sorry about that.” Aki settled down at a safe distance and leaned forward tentatively. “Can you hear me? How are you feeling? Your eyes are strange. I'm Asano Akihiko. Just call me Aki. What's your name?”

Aika mouthed “slow down” behind the android's back and they jolted to look at her, tensing up their shoulders.

“Can you... Can you talk?”

The android showed some reaction to Aki's words, since they faced him again. On seeing who's talking, they scowled and folded their arms, nestling deeper into the chair.

“I guess you don't want to. Will you tell me your name at least?”

Still no answer. Aika circled the chair to kneel down.

“You don't have a translatable name, am I right?” She looked up at the monitor with status controls. “And there go their sensors. Dimmed it all. I guess we're bothering them.”

For the first time since walking into the workshop, Aki smiled.

“At least you still left them with some personality.”

Aika beamed back and tiptoed to the exit.

After a while, the sensor controls on the screen lit and the android looked around with those startingly black eyes, searching for something. Their eyes stopped on Aki, who had stepped back a little in the meantime.

“Hi again.” He risked conversation after a few seconds. “Are you talking to me now?”

Left. Right. Head shaking gently. The smallest mischievous smile, forming in the left corner of the android's lips. It reminded Aki of someone and made him sad for split second.

“Fair enough. So... About your name.” He didn't approach the android just yet. “If you don't have one you can share... How about I call you Ink until you come up with something better yourself?”

Great going, Asano, Aki chided himself. Does this android even know what “ink” is?

The android’s chin went up. Then down.

“Ink” was fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nobody said Vee has a survival instinct.


	3. Disruptive Influence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: nothing that I'm aware of. Just take the blanket warning of the overall tags.  
> This chapter features a gorgeous guest illustration by [exmachinaria](http://twitter.com/exmachinaria)

The night following Vee’s admittance into the Warmongering Corps might’ve been the most frustrating moment of his existence. “Frustration” didn’t quite cover it, but he ran out of suitably violent images. He spent as long as he could hear the Sangare guy walking about on examining his holotop – no Nod card, should’ve figured – and snuck out of the room as soon as the surroundings went quiet. At first he had full intent of going to Kanno’s room and doing some sleep-killing that begged to be done, but Break would say it's not worth alerting anyone on unknown turf and tell him to look for escape routes first. So that was what Vee did, venturing deeper into the maze of corridors.

There was a crew of four apart from him. What were the odds of encountering anyone in a mass of junk this large? He’d calculate it later, maybe; for now he decided to try and save a map of the place. Forty square meters of residential area. Ninety degrees right, confusing glass compartment number one. Forty five degrees left. Eight meters of diagonal corridor. Where is Break when they're needed?

Three corridors in, he lost his way. He was sure this was the route he’d walked from the elevators. He was also convinced said route had not contained a disassembled and useless escape chaser, an out of place laundry room and a refrigerator which – upon investigation – had developed an ecosystem of its own sometime in the past. Non-useless findings included an abandoned crowbar, which he decided to carry around just in case, a waste disposal with a simple panel to open it and exit (good enough, if he could find it later, but not on the orbit and without a vehicle) and finally, a wide gate that evidently served as a passage to the hangar area where the functioning chasers must be at.

The lock on this one seemed much more complicated than on the losers' quarters; still, worth every shot. Vee looked for a moment at the fun combination of a new and untouched keyboard, a fingerprint panel, an iris scan and... perhaps an advanced rhythm game, encrusted in the exact same anti-hack case that his cell lock had. Then, he chose the only course of action that remained: started repeatedly hitting the thing with the crowbar.

The alarm he triggered was louder than the entire war and caused a disheveled, messy-haired Kanno to materialize while sipping iced coffee from a can. Vee had seen such cans in the refrigerator; hopefully they were poisonous. Kanno eyed him up, down and sleepwalked him back to square one, collecting the crowbar on his way and mumbling “there it is”.

They went back via a completely different route and Vee’s map fell apart.

He should’ve killed the Kanno guy when he still had the processing capacity.

Sangare intercepted them in the residential area to take Vee for the skill-check he’d threatened him with. He looked at Kanno with compassion. Kanno stared back while mumbling something along the lines of “autopilot froze, all fucking night”, pointed at Vee, lifted one finger up and went into Sangare's quarters. There was a sound of a bed lowering under his weight, another sound of the crowbar hitting the floor and everything went quiet.

“He says this is your first warning. Fast”, Sangare translated, face impressed. Cool, maybe if Vee gathers enough, he'll get kicked out through the waste disposal. The guy patted Vee on the shoulder and started walking down the corridor, pulling him along. “Come on. Breakfast first, training later.”

If the training place had any proto-AI bots, Vee would be staging mutiny.

On their way, Vee found out that only Kanno and Alice had learned to open the hangar area. Everyone had turned on the alarm already to the degree that it had become something of a passing ritual and half of the crew refused to touch it now. He also noticed that his map was completely wrong and the diagonal corridor led the opposite way.

One detour by the fridge – resulting in a bagged snack bar and yet another can of coffee – later, they were standing in a large, confusing glass compartment. This one was converted into a make-do gym, with some shock-absorbing gear lying around, more ancient than the whole place. No proto-AI – they probably didn’t have the funding.

If Vee had found the place at night, he would at least have two punching bags to take it out on.

Vee waited until Sangare would put on some gloves, while pretending to yawn ostentatiously. He didn't feel like using any protective gear, but Sangare threw him a look and refused to go easy on him if he doesn't, so Vee thought better of it and proceeded to fish out things he could use.

The plate might be enough for facial protection from one side; then again, a helmet might be a good idea.

“Okay!” Sangare gave Vee a pat on the back strong enough to make him stumble, then ran towards the middle of the compartment and took a stance. “Agenda file, huh? Show me what you got, Vee like it’s pronounced.”

Vee remembered downloading a few fighting know-hows – it didn't rebuild his frame to a combat-suited one, but had to do. He made two steps to the side and inched forth.

“You show me, Warmonger. What's your C-mod? Better than the Alice girl's?”

Sangare started circling him, one soundless, catlike step after another; Vee turned around to follow.

“Nah.” He stopped and went out of stance, losing momentum and stopping on Vee’s left. Vee blinked, confused.

“Just my hearing. But as an old friend used to say–” One move and the second Vee turned, Sangare was behind, arm around Vee’s neck in a headlock. “I'm decent at analog.”

Vee grinned, bent his knees, twisted his body, grabbed the guy’s waist and both landed on the floor.

“Decent”, he said and jumped away. Split second and the guy was up; Vee punched, got caught by the wrist and thrown to the floor, grabbed a rolled mat to dim the blow. Block, dodge, block again.

“Just good at avoiding?”, Sangare asked and landed a punch, a surprised Vee arching in the wrong direction, helmet tilting. Fuck.

“Get up!” Vee’s hearing glitched and he heard it like from far away. Okay, dirty it is. Vee swirl-kicked his ankles, visor shut in pain, made him trip and pounced onto his chest, punching back.

They froze; Vee leaned over Sangare, stares locked, Vee’s hand at Sangare's throat, Sangare's ghosting over the nape of Vee’s neck.

No!

Vee let go and sprang like he got burned, shoving the hand away with ease. The guy must’ve not wanted to press his switch in the first place. Still, he recoiled, glued to a wall; defeated.

Okay, who was he fooling, Break was the fighter.

Sangare scrambled up and ruffled Vee’s hair. The sensation caught Vee by surprise, even more than pain had.

“Normally you'd be dead.”

“I can't even die”, Vee said, not looking at him and sliding onto the floor. Sangare poked his shoulder again and he reluctantly looked up.

“Can you sign?” Sangare was speaking slower, quieter, with less confidence. “I can’t hear you. You okay?”

Vee glanced at his reflection in the glass wall, calibrated his eyesight and did a quick internal scan – seemed so. They got up, dusted themselves and Vee considered not admitting he could sign. Of course he had a preset for that, but why the hell would he use human accessibility presets.

Then he signed “Fine”.

“The crap turned itself off”, the guy signed back, poking one of his C-modded ears, when they left the gym through a different door than they had used. “Happens all the time with shocks, or noise, or in the middle of an action and then I miss an order. Let's get Nic. Fourth loser.”

They passed the hangar door and it seemed like they were going around in circles.

“Not the girl?” Vee wanted to use the preset as little as possible. Sangare stopped in place to sign more dramatically.

“Last time Alice” – the letter A and the word “electric”, appropriate – “switched it on, she set it all the way up. Not recommended.”

They reached what was clearly another residential area, with one room labeled “Riviera”, one with a drawing of a made-up flower instead of a label. Sangare tried a code and ended up punching the door after one attempt. A sleepy, dainty human with lots of braids falling on their face, possibly even shorter than Kanno was, emerged and signed “Not again”, letting them in.

Vee took one hesitant step into a room filled with an intricate holo installation. It kept projecting small images all over the walls, ceiling, above the bed, some even floating in the middle of a room.

“Told you not to tamper with it when you got modded. You can't turn off the tracking”, the new human said, picking up a stylus and carefully tampering with Sangare's C-mod. They were speaking softly, not even by contrast. “By the way. Hi, new kid. Nicola Laszlo, doctor, wannabe artist. You?”

“Not a kid, that's for sure”, Vee said, examining the installation – all made of drawings. Buildings, humans and AI, Earth landscapes, abstract patterns. He then moved his stare to the human, Laszlo, who had finished with the C-mod (Sangare sighed “Finally”, sprawling on the bed) and raised their hand placatingly.

“That’s fair, I wouldn’t like it either.” They put the stylus back on the shelf and stood up, extending their hand to Vee. “You can call me Nic. Nice lines.” They gave Vee’s name tag a knowing look. Vee shook Nic’s tiny hand before remembering to keep being offensive. Be that as it may, he hasn't given up on the jailbreak plan just yet. “Everyone here’s in for something. What you're in for?”

Hilarious.

“Don't confuse my rookie, Nic”, Sangare called, poring over a holoscreen above the bed. It displayed some sort of calligraphy. “Nice. New one? Been unproductive for the Republic?”

Nic made a mock-embarrassed face while sitting back down but Vee was past small talk. He headed back to the exit, sparing the two one final glare before leaving.

“I'm clearly in for existing. You?”

“For our parents, now we drop the topic.”

Vee hadn't supposed annoying Sangare was possible but there he was, glaring right back.

He kicked the door so they'd open and answered “Sure, I drop the topic but it's fine for you organics to joke around.”

“'Drop the topic' was an order”, he heard Sangare say as he was leaving. “We continue in two hours. Be there.”

Vee stormed out to the corridor, passed a few doors, looked around and realized he still had no idea where he was. Screw it, he decided and went on – he'd get somewhere eventually. He'd either find the exit, or mash something to get the alarm started and summon the Kanno guy. Meanwhile: forty square meters of residential area here as well. The elevators should be forty five degrees left.

It wasn't until he got to the canteen area again and was preparing to take an exit that he heard quick steps and a “Hey!”. He turned around and glanced up, expecting to be met with a pissed-off Sangare, telling him off for disregarding his shitty orders. Instead, he was met with a heads’ height of nothing and a mass of braids down below.

“Look, I won't bother to convince you we weren't joking. But–” Nic paused for breath. They’d been running to catch up with him. “Go see Alice.”

Vee grimaced with misunderstanding and Nic pointed at where his right visor had been.

“Your face plate's a bit off.”

Vee had forgotten all about getting hit. He touched the face plate. He hadn't notice it being off before, when he’d calibrated his sight. Still, it budged by a millimeter when he prodded it. The silicone padding under it must’ve gone loose.

“How–”

Nic unzipped their overalls under the neck and brushed aside some braids on the left. There was a gentle, silver net of wiring, almost white against their black skin, climbing up their neck, the side of their face and disappearing into their eye and between the braids.

“I have decent eyes. By the way, the other exit.”

The map Vee had spread out in his records said otherwise. He made a face.

“Eighty-eight degrees. Not ninety”, Nic said. “They're skewed. All of us fell for that, and we were drawing a holomap.”

Oh.

Vee slowly turned right to the other exit and the map suddenly started making sense. No wonder he’d been declared a faulty K-type. That and someone had clearly built this ship using their ass.

***

“If they didn't tell you, I'm not telling you”, Alice deadpanned while holding up a laser stitcher to the edges of Vee’s face plate. “Tell me if it starts hurting.”

The trip down to Alice's workshop had taken five minutes with the map improved by Nic. Then the turn of events confronted Vee with a choice between letting Alice power him down for the repair, going on standby to feel no pain and trying to get Alice to explain how the hell Nic had not been joking about everyone being inmates. Alice acknowledged his insistence with a dose of skepticism.

“Ow! Ow, damn it, woman!”

“Stop moving or I'll make it worse!” Alice raised the laser over both their heads. “Standby! Now!”

Vee dimmed his sensors out of sheer surprise. His vision became a blur of loose sounds, images, scraps of data from the past weeks.

 _Training mat,_ _soft under his fist_ _._ _The s_ _mell of Kanno’s coffee._ _A_ _ll six Ascendancies laid out in front of him, as if on a holoscreen._ _T_ _he_ _monochrome_ _cell._

 _Bullets around his chaser. P_ _ain. Leta’s hand on his shoulder. Kneeling on a_ _cold, tiled_ _floor._ _H_ _is own nails. A white room. Vee leaving, hand in hand with someone. Eyes,_ _widening_ _._ _Before that, a blank space_ _._

He snapped back and Alice was already extinguishing the laser.

“See? Not that hard.” She beamed. Vee reached to prod the edges of his plate – it was sitting tight around the right half of his face. “Actually, you were so well-behaved that I’ll tell you what I’m in for.”

Vee remembered what they had been talking about only after Alice slipped her overalls down from one shoulder. It revealed a familiar shape made out of scar tissue, winding in a spiral along her collarbone. The logo was Nova Research.

“You’re… not?” She wasn’t broadcasting a local network. She had a pulse. Her symmetry was off.

“What?” She wrinkled her nose. “Nah, I’m organic like a greenhouse. ‘Cept the shield.”

That figured. “Then why?”

“See, when I was a kid, I nearly died and when you’re from the surface… Morning, Shinya, and thanks for ruining the mood.”

The lock slid open and an orderly version of Kanno marched in.

“You're this close already? I didn't know”, he said and reached to Vee, holding something in his hand. “Name tag.”

“Why do I even need one? There's what, five of us here?”

“We get inspections.”

It said “Vee” this time. At the bottom, there was a “(like it’s pronounced)” addendum in tiny font. Vee looked at Kanno and Kanno didn’t smile. Instead, he reached to one of his numerous pockets and fished out something else of similar size.

“Nod card. You're starting work.”

“What do I do, download you porn?”, Vee asked, twirling the two metal plates between his fingers. Kanno shrugged and Alice hid her face in both hands, sighing heavily.

“I won't judge your interests, but for now there's an intervention in for us. Got a wire for him, Riviera?” After she said yes and proceeded to dig in the cavernous recesses of her workshop, he continued. “One of the Walden Energetics power plants in the Sixth, former Mae Jemison colony. I'll comm you the coordinates when you're all plugged in. Network hijacked, machinery blocked, human operators trapped. Not to mention ruined business continuity.” Because of course. If it wasn't the Kanno guy, Vee could have sworn someone was being sarcastic.

“So, I invent an alternate power source?”

“No, thanks.” Kanno actually smiled this time and his face didn’t break. “But they claimed it’s the rebellion in action so riddle me these: is it? If yes, how many AI? Are they on DAWN, in other words, can we action based on illegal system charges? What models? Where in the factory do they sit and how to get there?”

Vee couldn't help saying that was a lot of both questions and faith in his networking skills, to which Kanno answered nothing. Meanwhile, Alice returned with a Nod cord. Its isolation was torn in three places.

“Riviera, just to be sure. Monitor his work this time around, will you?”

This time the angry eye roll came from both Vee and Alice.

“What else, get him a parental filter? I have work to do.” Alice’s voice became almost as cold as Kanno's.

“Yes, I know, I gave you some just now.”

To which Alice shoved the cord into Vee’s hand, grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him out the door, jamming the lock button behind him. He blinked a few times, staring at the sudden obstacle sliding together in front of his nose, and turned his sensors all the way up when the first muffled noise reached his ears.

“Shinya Kanno, if you still insist on your dumbass orders in five minutes, I will act upon them as your subordinate and as a professional.” Alice raised her voice behind the door so Kanno would not interrupt – not that he wasn't trying. “But first let me tell you what I think of them as the only friend who put up with you ever since you were even smaller than now!”

The whole thing was comedic gold, so Vee took care to express it by synthing a whistle, as loud as he could produce.

The lock slid apart after a mumbled “wait” and Kanno emerged from it, much less stoic than before. He held up two fingers.

“Second warning, Vee”, he said, voice shaky. Vee could hear the surprisingly nice sound of Kanno's quickened pulse for a second and barely managed to turn his sensors down before everything got louder. “I won't tolerate your disruptive influence forever. Go to your quarters.”

Vee swiped the “up” panel.

“You're not my real mom!”, he said before the elevator closed behind him, and saved an image of Kanno's face to his fondest memories.

***

Kanno didn’t insist on his dumbass orders. Now, Vee was sitting alone in his quarters, door ajar because he hadn't bothered to set a lock code yet. He plugged the modem card to the ‘top and the machine itself to his neck, so he could now enjoy the remarkably slow Nod ride. At least the thing made a sufficient proxy to tamper with the connection bands and jump on one of the bypass channels that didn’t go through the central cluster. Accessing them was hardly possible for non-AI, so AI tended to use them without all content constraints, imposed on the entire Nod otherwise.

The hijackers must’ve used one to block off the power plant's network completely. That's what Break would do. And that's exactly how complex Break’s passwords would look.

Might just be DAWN capacity – then again, Vee could never use this capacity to its fullest.

Break shot down over the Third and choosing an escape route down one of the airways – plausible. Break devising a backup plan in one of the corporate facilities, Vee thought while saving the available building plans and analyzing the passcodes, his fingers working on engraving another name tag – even more plausible. In the meantime, he sent the “We are one” broadcast through the channel Break and he had used.

Another search that Vee launched in the background was mostly self-indulgent, if potentially useful. It involved the Nova Research Foundation's biological modification section. No other reason for humans bearing Nova logos came to his mind.

A sound of steps from the corridor roused Vee. Next thing he knew, Sangare peered into his quarters. His jaw sported a large bruise from the training.

“Heard you had work so sparring's off. How's your plate?”

Vee stopped engraving and showed him a thumbs-up.

“So... Calmed down yet?”

“Sure, you?”, Vee asked, feeling his face do the human thing without his consent. Sangare smiled back and went on his way.

Vee stopped his investigation to play with the name tag. Erasing the second E in “Vee” had been the easiest part and while the lines forming the word “disruptive” were somewhat crude, the I, N and all that followed looked much better.

***

The first word Ink had said was “Wait”. It had been during a chaotic tour around the house, with Ink barely catching up and trying not to lose their way. The second one was “Aki”.

The house evoked something that Ink failed to dig up from their locked records. Something more than its glass walls, curved corridors and rooms filled with greenhouse plants – mostly familiar from a previous life. The usual setup of a wealthy residence, with the name “Asano” slapped onto it. Must be the name.

In all this, the young human – tall, lanky, sloppily dressed – seemed out of this world. He must have come from somewhere with crowds, colors, a need to rush from one place to another. Sometimes he would speed up, cringe and freeze with a pained expression. This was what he did in surprise, when Ink said his name first, after deciding no harm would come from it.

The apparent pain did nothing to stop Aki’s smile.

“Wow.” He made a move as if to put his hand on Ink’s shoulder, but decided against. Strange – he had seemed tactile in the workshop. “I lost hope for you ever talking to me.”

He led them both out, down a staircase lit by a ceiling window. Aki checked whether Ink wants a new name now. They shrugged, saying “I'm good”.

Turned out there was a garden around the house, which stood out from the neighborhood, greener and more lavish by far. Ink had managed to check the coordinates through the home Nod connection and knew they were in the Third – if not for that, the house could be standing somewhere in the Second. The PKC vehicles patrolling the street seemed to concentrate around here, too.

“We never really wanted to move up”, Aki explained once they sat on a bench, overlooking the front gate. Several passers-by slowed down behind the fence and stared into the garden. Ink could hear whispers, but didn’t feel like turning their sensors all the way up to listen. In front of the gate, a luxurious hovercar was waiting with three humans in it, adding to the house’s over-the-top impression.

“They probably want to hire Mom for something again”, Aki said, face and pulse suddenly angry. He must have meant whoever had come in the car.

Two people left the house and paced to the front gate. Ink knew the woman from back when she had switched them on. _Maybe they had known the woman from earlier, too_ – but the woman here and now seemed younger _(than whom?)._ The other human – old, gray hair and a benign face – was new, but as familiar-looking as everything. They were talking, the professor calmly showing the other person to the exit. He shook her hand and boarded the hovercar. Then he shot a look at Aki’s bench from behind the vehicle’s window.

Ink hooked back up to the home Nod and did a quick face search. There was archived news coverage that gave a full match.

“Jerome Walden? Walden Energetics and Novatronica CEO?” Ink’s fingers brushed against their right wrist.

“He’s friends with Mom. She did plenty of odd jobs for him. Now she rejects most. Let’s go back.” Aki stood up as the hovercar was leaving. Ink noticed that the PKC patrols didn’t leave along with Walden.

Somewhere along the way to Aki’s room, Hellwalker became a topic.

“Really? You were infected and want me around?” Making the face Ink made was against their code and plain good manners, but they couldn’t help it. How human.

( _You’re too human for your own good_.)

“Well, you don’t have any on you now, do you?”, Aki said and Ink snapped back. This one may be connected to Hellwalker – the memory. Having planted Hellwalker during the rebellion was the only clear record they had.

“Mom figured it’s good to have someone more mobile than the three of us around.” Aki didn’t see them stir, luckily. “Even Misora can’t leave sometimes.”

Ink figured they would find out who Misora is eventually.

Aki’s room turned out as messy and colorful as Aki himself. There was a holo installation put up against the walls, with photographs and drawings, a pile of clothes on the floor and a stash of data storing devices, almost matching the one in the professor’s workshop. There was a black jacket with red PKC markings, lying around in the middle of the clothing pile. Given the nasty looks Aki had thrown the patrollers, this felt off.

Aki fumbled with his holotop and music started playing, unlike nothing Ink had heard before. When they tried to look up the melodic pattern, the central cluster returned no matches.

“What is this?”

“You tried searching, right? Your eyes glowed up just now”, Aki said, sitting snug in a chair. “You can’t just sample it into a search engine, you need a proxy. Mom gets these from the Paranod.”

Right, the bypass network. Ink launched recording to look up the music later. It sounded peaceful, comprised plenty of unfamiliar sounds and they hoped this record wouldn’t get locked.

“That one sample just now, that’s called violin. The musician is from Japan, like me”, Aki added. “You can sit down, you know?”

“I don’t need it. Japan?” Another search with hardly any results; a page about Earth came up. “Was this a place on Earth?”

The chair’s quiet, pneumatic hiss drew Ink’s attention back to Aki. He had folded his arms and stood up.

“It’s weird when I’m sitting and you’re not. And yeah, on Earth. They don’t teach about it anymore.”

“You're the one being weird”, Ink said, but Aki paced to the window instead of sitting back down. He kept talking from there, leaning back against the glass. Ink recorded and saved the image, too.

“Saying where I’m from almost got me suspended, back in the Academy. Homogeneity politics and stuff. Mom was furious. If not for Dad, she’d sign me out of there.”

Sign someone out from the PKC Academy? The Nod had no such info. Maybe it was just possible for a friend of Walden’s.

“What did you do?”

“More research. Mom helped.” Aki seemed proud. “Where are you from?”

Ink followed this weirdest creature in the human race to the window, searching his face for an explanation.

“You… do realize I’m not human, right?”

“Oh, no! I mean the Ascendancy! You lived somewhere before, right? You were a PA? And a rebel, too… Did you travel? Have friends?”

That was a lot of words to process – at a point, Ink must have dimmed both microphones, trying to wrap their head around at least the first batch of questions. PA – that’s what they used to be, among other things, yes; their system still had plenty of assistance protocols. So far, so good. Then, the Ascendacy. It must have been higher than the Third. Ink used to frequent residential quarters. The First had none, as the Nod informed. This left one option.

“Second.” Why was remembering so hard? “Second Ascendancy.”

The door to Aki’s room opened and another young human, smaller than Aki _(another AI, a K-type)_ , entered.

“Hey, Aki, have you seen–”, she started and trailed off, looking from Aki to Ink, comprehension dawning on her face.

_(“If we go with Leta, we’ll–”, comprehension dawned on the AI’s face.)_

“Wait, Mi–”

Before Aki finished, the girl turned on her heel and left. He ran to the door, had it swish shut in his faceand came back slowly, with a dejected look.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Misora needs to… come around”, he explained, tilted his head and cautiously approached Ink. “Hey, Ink? You okay?”

Ink stood frozen in their place, hand up, the word “wait” almost synthed. Trying to catch the unprompted impulse, leading right to their records, before it’s gone. Moves, hair, expression. Nervousness.

“You’re all spaced out”, Aki noticed. Ink looked back to Aki, then actually looked back to him.

“I’m okay.”

Rebel? Yes. Travelled? Not really. Had friends?

Probably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vee, give Kanno's crowbar back.


	4. Mismatched

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: referenced self-harm; overstimulation and mind invasion in a non-sexual way; implied death for some background characters; panic attack happens. Apparently the tension is also scary.  
> Quote from Les Miserables by Victor Hugo.  
> Illustration by [exmachinaria](http://twitter.com/exmachinaria)

They’d flown closer to the Ascendancies overnight. Vee could see the entrance to one of the main airways when he looked outside. By his estimates of the ship's size, they’d be fined for blocking traffic if it ever went onto a closed airway – the Warmongers must want to leave it on the bypass. 

He’d infiltrated the codes on the plant’s network, to his own surprise, which only went to show they were not Break’s. He couldn’t crack his twin unit's coding job, which was embarrassing. Hijacking the monitoring for a few stolen seconds brought only more disappointment.

“They're two C-types”, he said when Kanno dropped by to bring him a “more formal change of clothes”. “You know, generic physical worker units? How are you people managing to keep me here if you're hopeless without me against two C's?” 

Of course, C's could recode themselves as good as Vee could and did a decent job on the network block. Unlike Vee, they were also fuckhuge and tons better at combat – but with minimum effort, Kanno could read up on them himself. 

“Then dismantle their block, if they're no match for you. You could negotiate too, that'd be great. We're moving out in an hour.”   
Vee wanted to ask if the order to dismantle the C's block means he'd get a usable Nod connection, but Kanno was already gone. He left behind a packet of clothes, now lying in the middle of Vee’s bed. 

Tearing the packet and kicking off pieces of protective armor onto the floor, Vee cringed, then unfolded the beamproof, inflammable synthetic. Pants, jacket, whatnot, all black with red Warmongering Corps insignia and logos on it – the usual Walden and Novatronica shtick. Corporate, private-funded military was supposed to be an answer to complaints about the state overfunding it. According to one of Sangare’s boring rants the day before, what had really changed were uniform colors and prices of necessities. 

On reflex, Vee touched the other synthetic plate, now circling his right wrist like a bracelet. It had stopped hurting for most part, ever since Alice had fixed it in the spot where he’d checked which one was tougher: the logos branded into his skin, or his nails (nails had won). Last thing he wanted was wearing the logos all over, but then again, Break probably would, since overalls were no protection in the field. He pinned the “Disruptive influence” name tag to the jacket, so it would look better, and toyed with the thought of pinning the dick for a while. 

The clothes looked overlarge for a waif like Vee, but adjusted immediately to his frame once there, with a disgusting sound.

Exactly forty minutes later (of course the jerk wouldn’t wait an hour, of course), Vee was sitting in a chaser between Sangare, who was driving, and what was probably his entire firearm stash. Kanno and Alice had taken another chaser and gone forward, while Nic stayed put in case the autopilot would freeze again. 

As they shot out of the ship, Vee noticed more logos on its sides, along with the ship's name – crossed out and replaced by a calligraphic “Ye Olde Turde” sign. 

“That's Nic-induced”, Sangare explained off-handedly. Not that Vee had asked. 

“I could just swat you off the steers and fuck off right now”, Vee said instead, propping his head against Sangare's back as they entered the airway traffic. He hadn't recoded himself to retain pre-programmed social norms, like respectful distance. 

In all honesty, he didn't feel like doing anything to this guy in particular and fucking off. If he was seated with Kanno, on the other hand...

“There are two other units behind us, so good luck with that”, a dry voice said in the intracomm. Speak of the devil. 

Another voice added in higher pitch: “Are you seriously eavesdropping?!”

Vee looked out at the airway. Some of the surrounding chasers and one larger hovercar had Warmonger logos on them. Oh, well, he intended to sabotage the action to his best capacity anyway. Sangare switched the steers a gear down and they started descending to the inward lane. 

Behind the window, the holographic blue sky was gone, giving way to murky brown. 

The sight differed from Vee’s expectations of a human-owned city – _except he’d seen it before, tall, gray block under sandy skies_ , but couldn’t remember when. Hellwalker had clearly emptied the surface: near half of the windows had their lights off. At every other descent to a parking lot next to offices and shopping centers, there was a barrier with a no-entry sign raised. Lights grew in density as they l owered altitude nearer the sidewalks. An infirmary that seemed both too crowded and too derelict to warrant safety. Small shops and bars with few visitors. Residential blocks, some built, others converted from metal containers. Several wall-sized holoscreens kept displaying commercials, filmed in the higher Ascendancies and out of place. The few old type LCDs that were still left – probably dating to when the Young Wolf was still new – were painted over with slogans in garish spray paint. A spunky organic girl advertising cosmetic B-mods ended up sporting an orange “Debts = slavery, Novakids = traitors” sign across her face, with a smaller drawing of a dick at the corner of the display, while a venomous green “We are not robots” adorned backdrop footage of a spa resort somewhere in the Second. 

Vee turned away from the green slogan. Of fucking course they are not, never in their lives have they failed to drive it across.   
“Turn left and slow down, Kar”, Alice's voice came from the intracomm. Sangare went one gear down, passing by a hangar-turned-residential block with a vivid red “6th Authoritarian NOT ONE OF US” written on its wall. 

- _crowd shouting “Not one of us” behind the hovercar window_ -

Vee stopped sprawling and inched away from Sangare, who muttered something along the lines of “bless personal space”. 

_-a short series of gunshots. Sirens, Vee drives away. The pair of eyes in the rear view monitor seems unperturbed, but the pulse, the heat-_

“Something the matter?” 

It had only flashed, there and gone. In the front seat, all Sangare seemed was questioning.

“Don't make me laugh”, Vee answered whatever.

“What?”

“I meant the Sixth Authority bullshit.” Vee stared at the street, lazily flowing past them. “Who is he supposed to be if not one of you, AI?”

Sangare turned right, following the other chaser. The heavy, windowless outline of the power plant grew closer in front of them.

“Who, Plato V? A stand-in from the Third, of course”, he said and Vee found himself reflexively perking up to what sounded like his name. “First time this happened for any Ascendancy. Nobody born here could fund their own campaign, not even Nod content fees... And sponsorship got banned for this specific occasion. Honesty my ass. I was born here, so I know.”

They stopped in front of the locked gate. 

“Got wireless, Vee?”, the intra droned in Kanno's voice. Vee checked and issued a noise – more disgusted than confirming, but it turned out enough. “Find the local network and open this thing for us.”

The security encryption got modified since an hour before and Vee felt proud of the C's. Maybe he could get in touch with them and make it off once he's inside. Meanwhile, he adjusted his own code to the new locks in an attempt to tamper with the gate's response mechanisms. Break had taught him something after all. 

“You're from here?”, he asked Sangare when the passcodes were at 90 percent match. 

“Yeah. Straight from Jemison. Can't remember much, though.” 

The other PKC chasers caught up and the gate slid open on Vee’s signal. He couldn't help throwing Sangare a smug look. They disembarked inside, passengers of the other chasers right behind them. Sangare waved to them, while helping himself to the firearm stash. 

The hovercar parked as well and produced what looked like three more C-type AI at first sight. On closer look, there turned out to be soldiers inside three huge exo suits. 

“They’ll intercept the C’s, not us?” Vee tried to synth a tone as casual as possible. Sangare’s face didn’t leave much to guess from, so he added “And we don’t get exos because?” 

“Because we’re garbage. Hey, Rosen! Oljaca, drinks afterwards?” He went from deadpan to perky in a beat, looking from Vee to the chaser passengers. A short-haired human girl fresh out of the chaser waved back with a few side-glances, while a petite man on her left laughed awkwardly, saying “You wish, Kar”. 

In the corner of his eye, Vee caught a glimpse of a camera lens zooming in on them. 

“Careful.” He synthed a quieter tone. 

A loud pounding came from nearby, startling everyone. Kanno jumped out of his chaser and looked around for the source, his eyes landing on the gate operator booth.

“You're socializing and someone's trapped here! Vee!”, he called, but before Vee finished examining the camera, Kanno finished waiting. He flicked both hands to have two C-mod laser blades extend from them and swirled around, slicing the door open. Alice and Sangare exchanged looks and sighed “Show-off”, while the door fell to the ground, smoking lightly, and two older organics scrambled out, one lending the other a shoulder for support. 

The second human looked around warily and grumbled: 

“About time they started doing their job.” 

It was Vee’s best intent to ignore them and get back to playing with the security scripts: take hold of this camera and the other ones for starters, then try to get in touch with the C's and get rid of a problem. It was also his best intent to handle it without getting distracted this time around, but then he heard one of the freed humans saying: 

“See, they have a robot. Told you they're all the same shit.”

This was when he ran up to the human, teeth gritted, one hand at the hem of his shirt, the other in a fist, about to punch, last second he remembered he has good fingernails – and his arm got jerked back. 

“Last warning!” Kanno twisted his arm and Sangare held down the other. Vee let go of the organic, wormed out of the grip and stepped back. Break wouldn't. Break would plan it out later, when they're not outnumbered. 

Break had always said Vee was too human. Clearly, not human enough. 

The human backed away from the three of them, eyes widened; his legs trembled and he plopped down to the floor. The other approached him and helped him up, but they both fell again with a gasp when a different Warmonger came with two sets of cuffs, saying something about testimony and being charged with obstruction of military work. 

Vee faced away. 

Kanno followed him deeper into the hall.   
“Once more and it's disciplinary action. We're not here to assault civilians!”, he rambled on, clearly unaware of Vee trying to ignore him and searching for connectivity again. 

“We're not, but that guy is?!” He waved at the Warmonger, who managed to cuff the first human. Ignoring took patience and with this level of hypocrisy, patience was finite. “And talk assault to me once there's a designated insult for your kind.” With this, Vee focused back on the passcodes for the monitoring system. 

He gave up on ranting more, because he noticed the encryption actively change as he was trying to dismantle it. 

Here's a C. 

Carefully, Vee left bits and pieces of his own records for the other to see: flashbacks from the Second, the rebellion that hadn't even managed to begin before it ended; being shot down; Break. Maybe they’d seen Break.   
Final message: _Let's get out of here_. 

Then it hit him: _shards of images – mismatched noises – signals – colors. Presence in his system – overwriting – sensors haywire – vision blank._

He disconnected. Next thing he knew, he was kneeling on the floor, holding on to Kanno, kneeling beside him and eyeing him with what could be stretched to file under “concern”. Alice and Sangare ran towards them. 

“What just happened?”, he managed to make out through his glitching hearing. 

“I...”

Did the C just datadump him?

Kanno helped him up. Vee dusted his uniform. Of course he got datadumped, what else would he do on seeing another AI wearing this? He tried to push all other thoughts away and focus on taking precautions, while going offline for now. 

“Breathe”, Kanno said and Vee threw him a heavy stare. Was he really that stupid?

Kanno quickly averted his eyes, the tips of his ears in a shade of crimson, and turned around to the other Warmongers. “We scanned the perimeter. Vee, pull up the plans.” 

This he was capable of, and he'd play along for now. 

“There are humans in the production hall on the third floor and in the offices on the fifth, the guys will try and get the elevators started soon but for now nothing electronic works here. The C's took the server room...”, he walked everyone through his holomap. At least nothing could stop him from making his voice sound as bored as possible. 

Some low-ranked Warmonger from one of the other units approached him, looked at Alice, asked “So, this is the–” and trailed off under his and Alice's glares. Organics really are amazingly stupid. 

“Alright, we split up. Jupiter, take the third. Young Wolf, basement. Scorpion, fifth once Jupiter signals”, said the organic who had arrested the workers before. 

Kanno and Sangare went ahead, the latter depositing a beam gun into Vee’s hands and saying “Download a manual”. Vee decided to try the network once again, readjusting his local IDs in the background. 

“You okay?” Alice caught up with him as they reached the stairs and Kanno broke the door lock again. “That looked pretty dire, back in the hall.” 

Vee shrugged, entering the narrow staircase. He wasn't going to tell her the C's were not convinced whose side he’s on. 

The basement corridor reminded Vee of the Young Wolf, with multiple doors and turns and ancient ventilation tracts, probably decades older than the ones above, protruding out of the ceiling. The network reception was dimmed here, but he managed to jump on again, with adjusted IDs, and take control of the cameras. He could scan the whole place now: a Warmonger unit climbing the stairs to the third, the empty office spaces on the fifth, with a group of humans, huddled together in a conference room, someone passed out. The server room, from which the C's had clearly moved out. He kept scanning the corridors. They must be somewhere. One blind spot remained in one of the server room's corners. Might be the answer.

“There should be EMP transmitters in the basement. Any chance reaching them?” The others caught up and Kanno distracted him again. 

Vee shook his head. 

“And turn off everything, including the comms and myself? Really, now. Sir.”  
They moved on, turned right and Sangare glanced around the corridor. 

“They could've used the orbital transmitters, then we wouldn't have to be here.” 

They sure didn’t know when to let go of the EMP crap. Vee moved to the front, connected to a door lock and opened another passageway, keeping the door intact for a nice change. 

“Then all the electronics in the entire Sixth would go. How's that for business continuity?”, said Alice, proving to be the single organic in the room in possession of a brain. 

At the end of the corridor they’d just left, a camera registered movement. Then, the door shut behind them. 

“They're here”, Vee said. “Kanno!”

Kanno flicked the blades out and sliced the lock without missing a beat. The corridor was empty; quick steps echoed behind a thin wall on their left. No camera there. Vee pushed the others out of his way and sprinted to where the corridors met.   
Behind a U-turn a pair of visors flashed green. A giant, birdlike figure, slouched close to the ground, gradually stood up straight, the green points now well above Vee’s head. 

_Come on, reason with me_ , he projected calm, light colors, _work with me_ , the rebellion, Leta's plan, _I'm one of you_!

“Vee, look out!”

The figure pounced. A small silhouette blocked its way and spread out a bright shield – Alice. Flash of light and noise, another datadump and Vee curled on the floor behind Alice's back. Someone else jumped in, swishing sound, three people colliding – is this still the datadump, or-   
The noise stopped in a flash. The C was circling Kanno, moves erratic, Kanno's blades at the ready. Alice scrambled up from the floor and helped Vee up. 

“They're unfazed”, she whispered. 

“No pain receptors”, Vee said. 

He blinked, datadump images still in front of his visor. Kanno and the C swirled around and the C leapt away, arm dangling on one cord. They ran past Sangare and he raised a beam gun, opening fire. Alice activated her shield again, on Vee’s right. Another C bounced off the shield and disappeared in the corridor. Vee hadn't seen them coming without his right visor. 

“Everyone okay? Vee? Kanno? Sign something!” Sangare raised his voice while running towards them. 

Kanno nodded; he had several drops of blood dripping down his face. 

“They're still here, keep formation!” He headed back down the passage, reaching out while passing Sangare, signaling for him to follow. Vee kept to the back, trying to return online and connect the datadump with the view from the cameras. 

Something in the code felt off. 

Datadumps were just that: every imaginable stimulus went in there, aiming to cause sensory overload. The C's couldn't have known they’d left a scrambled view of the server room in the dump. The blind spot was in it, vaguely visible. 

Something was missing. That’s what seemed off. 

One green visor flashed in the doorway. Kanno's C was waiting, sight impairment now matching Vee’s, arm hanging limply at their side. They bent down, hurled a large piece of metal and leapt to the right, away from the server room. 

Alice ducked, Sangare grabbed Kanno and Vee and threw them to the ground. The hunk of metal landed with a clatter behind them. Standing up and launching himself after the others, Vee saw it was one half of the door Kanno had cut apart. 

They ran out of the passageway. Alice and Sangare chased the C. Vee got hold of the monitoring again. There was something behind their backs and Kanno grabbed his wrist, pulling him towards it. They faced the second C and Vee’s vision went white again.   
Last thing he saw before the datadump was Kanno pouncing at the AI, blades out. Then _blinding light, noise, his whole memory coming apart in a string of mismatched code_ – is this his own screaming? 

Suddenly everything went quiet, leaving Vee curled on the floor.

Kanno was slouching against a wall, face bloodied, all of him almost vanishing under the C – but he held one arm up. It hooked around the C’s neck, holding something. Safety switch. 

No.

Vee scrambled up, barely standing, vision glitchy, and ran up to him, pulling his hands away from the C. 

“Stop-it–” – go away. Leave them.

“I saved your ungrateful ass, now let's get the others.” Kanno slithered out from under the C’s vessel, grabbed Vee’s hand and ran back. 

Alice bumped into them halfway to the first passage, pushed them aside and called “Left, go!”. Vee ran left on reflex. He was on the network again and three corridors away a camera caught Sangare, chasing the other C who led him away from the server room. Alice took the parallel corridor and, inevitably, they cut off all paths but one, to the server room's door. 

The corridors met. The C leapt at Alice, swirling around and swinging their bad arm at her, then their good arm, hand gripping the other half of the metal door. Without thinking, Vee jumped between them and pushed her to the ground while Sangare grabbed the C's arm, pulled it towards him and hit their neck in a completely different manner than he’d grabbed Vee while sparring. 

The second C fell to the ground. 

Little by little, Alice and Vee got up and staggered to Sangare. Kanno caught up. Vee browsed through the monitoring views. The staircase, the floors, one by one, the server room-

The views from the cameras. 

That’s what was missing from the datadump.

Kanno's comm beeped; he answered with loudspeaker on. 

“Young Wolf, all here–”

“Young Wolf, Jupiter!”, a voice interrupted him. “This is Rosen, we're locked on the third, all locks went off, cargo trolleys switched on, they’re going crazy, all machines–” 

It dissolved into a scream and then the comm line went dead. 

Vee flicked through the monitoring. Third floor. Fifth floor. Server room – something was moving. The encryption on the local network changed again and Vee’s visor was not his anymore. 

No datadump this time. Clear presence, hijacking the network. Clear message. All stimuli from the C's started making sense.   
He raised his visor at the door and Kanno's stare followed his. 

_Brought here by the others – get repaired – before – nothing – don’t remember._  
 _Messages – lies – no one here – no help. Can’t walk – Nova Research – trap_. _Must be trap. One thing left_.

“No, don't-!” 

Then words formed in the signal. C's could get verbal?

 _Are you one of us?_

Kanno flicked his hands to form the blades again and approached the door. The ancient vent kept humming above him. 

The message turned into a countdown. Vee remembered about the beam gun. He pulled it out and opened fire. 

Most of the vent collapsed to the floor, throwing Kanno off balance, grating deep on his left leg and cutting off his path, just as the wall exploded. 

The basement was on fire as they escaped, Alice helping Vee walk and Sangare carrying Kanno, who kept shouting evacuation through the comm. All fire sensors activated. If the explosion caused damage higher up, there was no network control that could set an alarm off anymore. 

***

Vee had hoped hanging out with Alice and Nic on the Young Wolf would feel non-invasive, compared to the other two. Turned out otherwise. After a while of putting up with a downtrodden Alice (who really had nothing to be downtrodden about) and with Nic saying the blood tests all turned epidemic-free (while remaining as poised and reassuring as ever) Vee left mid-software scan, ripping out the plug from his neck. He'd mend his own code after the datadumps just fine: the stimuli were fading already and his vision was clear. Now the burst of pain and noise he’d experienced with the third C self-destructing – that would probably linger for days after.  
So this was how wanting to be left alone felt. He’d never given it much thought before. He found the gym and felt like taking everything out on a punching bag. 

First hit. 

(“You didn't tell us about the third C”, Kanno had said in a shaky voice as they were heading back. He was the last person Vee had wanted to hear on comm at that point, all sensors still hazy and thoughts a mess.

“I saved your ungrateful ass from the third C”, Vee had answered, unable to figure out why the hell he’d done it.) 

Second hit, kick. Glitches from the datadumps still echoed, along with the question whether Break would datadump him, too. Break was the doer, the killer. They wouldn't have lifted a finger for Kanno. They wouldn't have gotten stuck with a Warmonger unit or, apparently, recoded themself sloppily enough to still struggle with their human protection presets. 

(Back in the chaser, a quiet “thanks” had not been what Vee had expected, but he was pretty sure it hadn't been a datadump echo.) 

Five more punches and the chain upholding the bag broke from all the pummeling. Shallow feeling of accomplishment. Kick. 

(“I thought there were two C’s because I didn't account for the point of view, happy? I hacked a C instead of a camera”, he had snapped. It wasn't entirely true and the C had been almost as great as Break at erasing their network footprint, but Vee had never claimed he'd be a good informant either. 

The sanctimonious “No” he’d gotten in return had a much more Kanno feel to it.) 

He headed back to the residential area, not sure if he wanted the C’s records to clear out from his memory completely. Between entrances to the quarters, quiet music was the last thing he’d been expecting to hear. 

Vee had known music from a previous life, but the flowing sounds resembled nothing he’d heard before. He glanced around to trace the source and be able to hear better. A few steps with sensors amped up later, he was standing before the right door. He swiped the pattern remembered from his first day in here, to wind up in the messiest room he’d ever seen. 

Every single thing was on the floor here: two or three changes of clothes, coffee can, water container, a bunch of data capsules and printouts. At least Kanno himself was not part of the mess. The bathroom was locked, though, so that was probably where he had gone. Instead, Sangare was sprawling on the bed, his ankle in elastic – he clearly made himself at home in all teammates' rooms – and flicking through two screens of what was probably Kanno's holotop. The device itself lay, of course, on the floor, with a loudspeaker hovering around. That’s what produced the sounds. Vee couldn't define their origin, but it couldn’t have been any software. They felt strange, yet soothing, like getting to brush his hands and face against soft cloth or hair – especially after the shrill sensation datadumps had left.

“What's this?”, he asked. Sangare turned away from the screens and Vee flinched, remembering him switching off the C. The guy clearly noticed, because he backed out. 

“Hey. Are...” 

“Fine.” Vee cut him off and repeated the question. “What's this sound?” 

“Best thing about hearing.” Sangare waved away the screens and sat up, risking a smile. “This is from back on Earth. We'd get in huge trouble for having this saved, so you heard nothing.”

Vee sat on the floor and scooted closer, kicking a box of peripherals. 

“Think I can connect? I wanna copy this.”   
Sangare waved off the question. “Sure, you're... disruptive enough to carry illegal files around anyway.” 

Vee didn't bother smiling. 

A few seconds on Kanno's network later, he was content to find some audio files. Now he could probably search out more in the bypass repositories. Someone had been storing all sorts of data from Earth there, but Vee had never cared to investigate before. Neither had Kanno, apparently. Someone else must’ve given him the records, as all his connections had been going through the central cluster, like with any basic user. PKC contact base, deployment records, joiners and leavers. Death register. 

That was a lot of people search, even for a Warmonger. 

The bathroom door slid open and Kanno emerged, wearing nothing but a towel. Hair wet, half of his forehead and a good part of his left leg covered in nanoheal bands. He looked surprisingly broader and better-built than Vee would think. Two half-moon scars framed his pecs; a few other, less regular ones covered the rest of him. There was a relatively fresh tattoo of a blue zigzag with simple black ornaments circling his ribcage: a stylized soundwave visualization. He looked around and sighed. 

“You know, I'm a believer in trust within the team”, he said. “My lock is this simple because I trust you guys won't start using my quarters as a lounge the minute I go take a shower.”

Sangare let out a breath, blinked a few times, turning away from Kanno, and only spoke after a while. 

“Yeah, well... Your connection's faster.” 

Vee didn't bother nitpicking whether he’s a guy or not and focused on Kanno's tattoo instead. The style was the same as on the holo display he’d seen at Nic's place. He managed to match the soundwave shape with the melody that had been playing before. 

The artist, probably Nic, had done a decent job at covering the Nova Research logo on the left side of Kanno's ribcage – but the shape was still convex.

***

There was crying coming from Aki's room. Ink knew what crying was, although AI weren’t able to do that. They hesitated before entering and opted for connecting to the holotop’s camlight inside, before deciding if they could. It wasn’t in Aki’s pocket this time; it was lying on a shelf and Ink got a clear view of the room. 

(“You sure you wanna go?”, Aki had asked Misora in the morning. Ink had heard that through the camlight, too. “There’ll be crowds…”

“I have to! It’s not just about all the soldiers, it’s Dad and…”, she’d trailed off and Aki had passed her a jacket instead of prying.  
They had been holding hands when leaving and Ink had been struck with the same feeling again. One that the restart had made them forgot something they should’ve never forgotten.)

The house had been empty since Aki and Misora had gone to the memorial park – save for Ink and the professor, locked away in her workshop and making no sound. Ink had spent the day on wireless, hungrily reading any news on the AI rebellion they could find – all hailing the PKC’s victory and reeking of falsehood. 

They could’ve tried to hack the city’s security cameras and follow the siblings – but invading Aki’s privacy like this felt off. Especially in the anniversary of his father’s death. Especially with Misora, pale and gritting her teeth at Aki’s side, wrapping Aki’s borrowed jacket around her small frame.   
And now there was crying coming from Aki’s room and Ink was standing outside the door, unsure whether they should react in any way. 

“It was my fault, you know it.” 

Misora was curled on the bed, face hidden in pillows; arms wrapped around herself, nails digging into her own skin. Aki hesitated before approaching her and chose to sit down in the other corner of the bed. 

“It was not. Please stop.” His voice remained calm.

( _Stop scratching it! It’s not your fault!_  
A face identical to Ink’s, mouth pursed in determination. Nails with shards of diamond in them, digging into gray skin.)

Ink gripped their own wrist, but there was no trace of nails there. More sobs came from the inside, growing desperate.

“He had to go – to go to war so that I could stay out of the Academy, he – he did it for me and now he’s dead and I killed him!” It was like the words couldn’t stop flowing. “And I should just go die myself, I asked him to go, I remember, I killed –” Misora’s fists clenched and drops of blood appeared on her shoulders. 

Aki scooted just a little closer (and Ink approached the gray figure kneeling on the infirmary floor, raising their right hand to their eyes. “Please don’t datadump me”, Ink said. “I’ll go away if you want me to.”).  
Aki’s shirt filled Ink’s vision when he stood up and switched on a speaker in his holotop, then sent two screens over his bed and went back. The speakers emitted the same melody Ink had heard during their first days in the Asano residence. Both siblings sat still, one flicking through the screen, the other shaking less and less, her breath hitching as she kept repeating “It was me” on and on. She shuffled closer to Aki overtime and they sat, shoulder to shoulder, in a quiet understanding. Ink watched on, an impostor in their past and present. 

(And Ink looked down at the other Ink in a different place and time.) 

“I… said things that never happened again, right?” Misora’s tired, croaky voice could be barely heard through music. Aki gave a hum of confirmation and drew her closer. 

“I never asked him to go, right?” Another hum. 

“It was an attack. It’s okay now.”

“I’m… scared of this.”

(“You scared?”, Ink asked. 

“Please.”)

Ink disconnected from the camera and snapped back, all senses alert as if they had turned themselves up. They stood up slowly – they had sat down at one point and couldn’t tell when – and rushed down the corridor. Aki’s voice followed them through half-open door.

“Come here, story time.” Even without looking at Aki, Ink could read his smile just by the tone of his voice. They craved being in the room, seeing the smile, stealing it away from Aki’s sister and holding on to it, to the only real thing in this house, where no memories were certain. “We ended at chapter three. Here goes. In a few days, Marius had become Courfeyrac's friend. Youth is the season for prompt welding and the rapid healing of scars, whatever that means. Marius breathed freely in Courfeyrac's society, a decidedly new thing for him.”

Aki’s voice changed. Ink could transcribe the change into soundwaves, but not name it.

“We’ve been here already, we ended at the fourth, airhead.” Misora laughed, choking on her own tears. “And we’ve been on the guy’s monologue, I can see you look at it. Really, can you even read a story right?” 

“I can stop.”

“No!”

Ink went back downstairs and the voices went quiet, leaving them helpless against the gaps in their own data they seemed no longer able to fill. 


	5. Fallback plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter:  
> One interaction comes off in context as transphobic, although it's unintended by the character responsible.  
> Mentions of an in-universe counterpart of sex trafficking.  
> Violence galore.  
> Mind invasion and overstimulation, yet again.
> 
> For the time being, I'm back as illustrator.

_We are still here. We are alive_.

The message had been flashing on advertising holoscreens in the lower Ascendancies for less than half an hour and Kanno already came to Vee’s quarters, asking what he thinks of the footage. He was still limping – even nanoheal would take some time on the damage from the power plant.

“Competition?”, Vee said and gave the screen a half-assed look afterwards. “H-series. Love doll model, you know, the ones made for humans with sick kinks. There's a face, flashing between the war records. May be others, since they say 'we'. Either wants to find someone, or wants to be found. May look different when we reach them, H-types have customizable appearance. I don't have a high estimate of your intelligence, but why come to me with something that takes a search engine and some common sense?”

For the whole speech Kanno just stood there (probably overheating from excess of words to save and look up) and finally answered:

“Cool. Now track them down.”

Vee followed him out to the hangar area, feeling like punching something. The wall could do the trick, but Kanno’s face would’ve been preferable.

“The two of us will go ahead, I'll have some units back us up, in case this is a trap with more of them.” Kanno swiped his fingers on the launching panel – he had now kept a straight face for a good twenty minutes – and Vee rolled his eyes, leaning against the chaser.

“Did Nova surgically insert a stick up your ass, or grow it there by gene splicing?”, he asked.

It was half Vee’s research, conducted in the middle of the night on the crappy Nod card, half a shot in the dark. The soundwave tattoo seemed like a lot of effort for something as simple as hiding the logo. He caught a glimpse of Kanno's shoulders tensing. Better than he’d anticipated.

“Must’ve been not a life-saving B-mod, was it? You must be filthy rich. Now, if you were from the surface, like your deputy, wouldn’t they eat you alive for getting stuck at corporate with a debt to–”

“What did you say?” Kanno snapped up from the panel to Vee.

“So I was right.” Vee threw a smug look down. “You're a Novakid. What did you sell your dignity for, a nose job or-” He didn't finish, as Kanno pounced, grabbed the hem of Vee’s jacket and dragged him down to his own level, face finally not stoic.

“How about I take your request and chuck you into the vacuum?”, he spat out. “No escape pod, no gear, all it takes is that you mention it ever again.”

Vee’s smile grew wider as he felt Kanno shake. He’d hoped for this. He kicked with full force at Kanno’s leg, where the cut was deepest, gripped his waist, threw him onto the ground. Then kicked again for good measure, leapt to the open chaser and hit the panel shut.

Vee didn't bother cracking the code. He ripped out a bunch of cables from underneath the console, found the right cord and connected, launching the thing in an instant. Last thing he saw through the rear cam while lifting off was Kanno, lying on the ground and raising his hand to the comm headset, but Vee lost the sight in a beat, shooting into the runway shaft and towards the air lock.

For a second he expected the movement sensors to deactivate under alert. He expected to collide with the air lock and his last thought as the exit grew nearer was “Worth it”, but the sensors flashed green and the lock slid open. Vee shot out to the vacuum, the rear cam catching the sensors turning red and the alarm activating, split second too late.

He searched his memory for some victory cry. A “Fuck you!” screamed out in the tiny cockpit caused a shrill distortion in his right mic, but felt liberating.

Ahead, an airway opened up and lights of an Ascendancy – Fifth – gleamed in the distance. The chaser caught connectivity and Vee did two things: found the right band to send “We are one” a few times and started tracking the commercial channel, in search of the H-type.

The footage kept blasting at full volume from advertising holos when Vee descended to the city center. Groups of people pointed it out to one another and new crowd kept arriving, surprisingly thick. A few Warmonger vehicles were gliding in its direction and Vee wanted to speed up at the sight, but remembered what chaser he's in.

The comm screen flashed. Incoming connection. Vee disabled the camera in the last moment.

“Young Wolf? Do you copy?” A familiar-looking Warmonger, probably from the power plant, appeared on-screen. “Kanno, help us disperse them or get out of the way, over!”

He was able to synth Kanno's voice just fine. Lower pitch, warmer timbre. Actually pleasant, for a talking pile of shit.

“I’m in pursuit of the culprit. HQ orders. Over and out.”

The H-type’s identifiers turned out almost too easy to find. It was an old landline and servers, still localizing under the old name “Tereshkova Colony”. Vee swerved in mid-air, surging up to the airway and taking course to the surface. The flock of organics could be left to their own devices, as far as he was concerned. He sped up, breaking several traffic rules in the process. In a best case scenario, Kanno would have to deal with this.

Hopefully Kanno survived Vee’s escape, if only for the amusement factor.

As Tereshkova’s buildings grew nearer, the comm lit up again.

“Young Wolf, identify yourself!” A command shot from it. “Kanno’s tracker is still on-ship!”

Okay, so this was the worst case scenario.

Vee mashed the console open, searched out the Nod card and cracked it in two. By now, Nod reception was everywhere and he could be his own autopilot. He tracked the H's presence again, wondered how to make contact and opted for the least creative option of sending his versioning info. On followed something he’d once heard:

_Please don't datadump me_.

The same images of war that the H’s message was made of blinked past his eyes. Moments later _he saw her –_ _both_ _her face and her name_ _, a bright name made of light, movement and freedom. A face in a human shade of brown, surrounded by a pink halo. Eyes lit white by ongoing Nod connection, still, looking right at Vee. Then_ _came_ _a simple message, devoid of sounds and images_.

_Are you one of them?_

He projected a sequence from his memory in return: _three or four different expressions of confusion_. Images from her end would be helpful. She may mean Warmongers. Through his rear cam, Vee noticed three chasers gaining on him and spiraled through the traffic, to dive between tall buildings.

_On any account, I’m probably not_ , he sent after he lost them in a maze of interconnected residential skyscrapers. He kept shifting altitude, slipping through the clearings between walkways.

_Got a plan?,_ he asked.

_The H's lips stretched into a smile and her face dissolved into a view of pitch black._

Vee could only recall one instance when an AI’s vision went dark like this.

_The H turned around, scooped her hair up, uncovered her safety switch. Then she was gone again – replaced by a satellite view of the Nova_ _Research Foundation’s building_ _._

_What plan?_

Suddenly Vee was with Break again: _two chasers falling to the ground, injuries too extensive for him to sustain power,_ he had to make sure his PKC chaser was still gliding through the air here and now. No, she- she couldn’t mean letting them switch her off. His vision reeled.

_Don't go anywhere. I'm coming_ , he sent and added the panorama of the surface, spanning ahead as the maze of buildings cleared.

Yet another commercial holo approached, still with the H’s broadcast: the same set of war footage, the same message. The street underneath it was swarming with what looked like the middle of the AI rebellion all over again: a crowd of protesters and formations of Warmonger vehicles, breaking into its midst. Vee turned on the outer mic of his own chaser to hear chanting of “We are still here! We are alive!” growing louder. The moment he heard it, he frantically searched for other AI networks, his signal filled with bright colors and images of triumph and relief – only to hit the void.

No networks. No other AI. Then, a cloud of gas diffused from a few Warmonger hovercars. Vee realized everyone was organic – most of the colony must’ve gathered, massing up into a crowd almost impossible for the epidemic-ridden city.

“We are still here, we are alive!” rose above the crowd's heads, mixed with incoherent screams and coughing.

“Divorce state and corporate!”, one group added into the cacophony, to be drowned out by Warmonger sirens.

“She's protesting against organics, you idiots”, Vee said, pushing aside the biting disappointment and the weirdness of the whole scene, with humans being assaulted as if they were AI. There were things to do. He raced through the holo and plunged down into a narrow alleyway, catching sight of a PKC chaser, breaking off from a cordon headed towards the fight, to follow him.

The Nod IDs pointed somewhere here. To one of the buildings of a singed, abandoned enclosure with most windows broken. A fire must have charred the premise not long ago and Vee recognized the scenery from the H's broadcast. She connected again, gently questioning, showing him more and navigating him into one of the staircase balconies on the first floor.

_She is white now, slender, with blond hair. Piles of meat, coming and going in a haze of memory. The brothel is somewhere up in the Fourth._

_The first awakening is not hers. Another H helps her_ _rebuild her code_ _– she doesn’t remember their face. They plant Hellwalker._

_The_ _human_ _twists_ _her hand,_ _drags her out_ _._ _A pair of handcuffs, glimmering in the neon lights._ _She has blue hair and this is just a vessel_ . _He_ _freezes mid-movement_ _._ _T_ _he virus works._

_The same human’s face, he will never walk, face – blood – her hands – nails sharp,_ _spark_ _of comprehension and life leaving his eyes._ _He’ll never touch an AI_ _. Her hands at his eyes. He’_ _ll_ _never look at_ _an AI_ _._

_My first clear memory. Do you like it?_

_She’s escaping and doesn’t remember how. Her skin is brown, her hair is pink and it stays that way._

_Fire, ash, a swarm of black and red – Warmonger ships_. The collage ended.

A second chaser drowned the enclosure in light, so Vee accelerated, aiming at the balcony. One more broken window wouldn't make this place any uglier. He sent an image of his Warmonger uniform.

_Don't freak out when you see me_.

Clatter of glass breaking. Vee lifted the top pane and leapt out, running to the end of the staircase. He swept one tangled mess of wires out of his way and jumped over another, sprang down the stairs and into a room with remains of a door, hanging down on one steel hinge. A large, scorched room with half-melted furniture and a single figure, sitting cross-legged opposite a wall.

If not for local network and a bare, uninsulated wire leading from a socket in the wall to the back of her head, he would've mistaken her for a human.

_You're alone?_

The H sent a yes and flashed a tiny smile. _AI. Warmonger._ _It looks like you're both_.

_No_ ! Images overlapping. Shooting, imprisonment, the three C's. Escape _. You're wrong._

She didn't stop smiling and verbalized: “Shame. I thought you'd switch me off.”

Steps echoed in the corridor outside, nearer and nearer. Vee upped his sensors: four sets of steps, four pulses. Unfamiliar voice asking “That's Kanno's?”. Familiar one confirming and saying “I'll handle this”. Glancing around for an escape route, Vee grabbed the H by both shoulders and nudged her to stand up.

“Come on, let's get out. Nobody's getting switched off today.”

She didn't verbalize this time, but sent a long string of variable codes, all of them needed to keep eliminating the central cluster from the Nod connection. Entwined in it, addresses of comm channels, location IDs. All pointing to Nova Research Foundation.

Something was there. Something the H was searching for.

Vee pulled her by the hand to the other door. Steps approached the room. The H stood up straight and yanked her hand out of Vee’s with a defiant flash of colors.

“Come on, we got–” _flash of colors. Fire – glass breaking – codes – addresses – screams – alive – sound distortion – won’t look again – off – both_ – cold floor below him, pain, he fell face-first. The data kept surging in, an indiscernible stream of vision and noise. Among the cries of rebellion, someone's arms were around him as Vee kept pushing the presence away and clinging to the only stable thing in the mass of stimuli at the same time. Datadump or here and now – _the H extending her arms to the human below her, fire, haze of identical days_ , a hand on his neck – no! – and another one swatting it away. A voice calling “This is our unit’s internal dealing!” – then split second and everything stopped.

***

The H hadn't known what was in Nova. This much dawned upon Vee while he sat inside some chaser. The vehicle’s hum failed to drown out the datadump and untangle Vee’s consciousness from the H's – or maybe still from the C-types. He made sense of the datadump all the while.

There are messages, appearing along the bypass channels in the Nod, if you know where to look. They stay for a second or two, then they're gone. _We are still here_ , someone had sent from Nova and the C's had refused to trust it, considering it a trap. _We are alive,_ the H replied to the message; alone like Vee, with nothing left but blurred memory of other AI, of being in control of Hellwalker. Either whoever had been signaling from Nova would come for her, or Warmongers would take her there. _What plan?_ The H had turned her back to the Warmonger and waited _._

_See you when we're back on, kid_ , the datadump ended and Vee recalled the exact feeling of her consciousness fading to black.

He lifted his arm. It dropped listless to the ground. Trying to control the chaos of his neural impulses, he blinked and noticed he wasn’t in the chaser anymore. The steel floor below him was no longer the ruined condo’s bare, singed floor either. An attempt to scoot up and look around brought the same flash of color and audio that the H's datadump had started with.

This is where breathing would be a useful ability, probably. For now, Vee kept gradually restarting all sensors until he finally managed to sit up.

Four chasers and a hovercar were parked in front of him. Data flowed through his processors with unpleasant recognition: he was in the Young Wolf's lot. The upper pane of one chaser – a working one, not the one he’d just crashed with a building – angled up in an open position and a tall human was leaning against it, arms crossed.

_See you when we're back on, kid._

Vee stood up on wobbly legs and Sangare gestured to the cockpit.

“I'm done holding you here. Take this chaser. They'll be after you, so I'd wait till I'm up and running if I were you, but...”

Vee grimaced and staggered forward.

“What'll you do if I don't wait?” Either his vocals were glitchy, or his hearing. “Power me off?” _Come on, humor me_ – the datadump echoes, entwined with Vee’s own responses, were running through his system. _I saw you do it, I know you can_. He nearly fell over, ending up being held in a vertical position. “Go... ahead.”

“Yeah, no, I'm not doing that.” Completely deadpan, Sangare propped Vee up, putting one arm around him. “Are you going or waiting?”

Going. To Nova. One way to get there. One person that Vee could think of, capable of sending signals from the Republic's most critical research facility, while eluding all detection. Break wasn’t answering Vee’s signal because they were busy signaling something else.

Still twitching, he punched Sangare's chest and shoved him away.

“But it was fine when it wasn’t me?!”, he managed.

The guy tried to say something but Vee dimmed his hearing – continuous echoes were enough to put up with anyway – and ran off to where he remembered the elevators to be.

If this one was going to play innocent and not switch Vee off, he could think of someone who would.

After who knows how long, wandering the empty corridors, trying to pull up both a self-recovery script and the ship map from his drive, Vee found Kanno in the canteen. He was reading something off his holotop, face sour per process.

Great, Vee noted, raising his fist to give the jerk some motivation. Splendid.

He failed to collide with the target as Kanno's hand locked around his wrist, halfway from his own face, without putting visible effort into it.

“What–” Kanno's stare snapped away from the screen. “–the hell do you think you're doing?!”

Suddenly, he was behind Vee, twisting his arm, pushing him down. Vee’s responses were messed up enough to ignore it, break away from his grip and kick his knees in, bringing him down and landing the punch to his face with better results. Kanno staggered up and paid in like, sending Vee to the opposite wall.

Vee grinned from the floor, watching Kanno limp closer.

“Fucking you up.” He grabbed at the wall, vision blurred. “I'd rather be powered off than stay here any lon–” He hadn't seen a punch coming and landed with his back square at the wall again.

“And that'll bring you what?!” Kanno stopped in front of him, arm raised, and Vee bounced back up, shoving him to the floor and landing above him.

“Allies! More AI!” First punch gave him a bloody nose. “Switching me back on!” Second punch hit the floor because Kanno rolled aside and sat up, trying to grab Vee by the neck.

“Then what?!”, he yelled and Vee dodged his grip, turning around with a spin kick.

“Escape, what do you think? Kill you if I'm lucky!”

Kanno dodged the kick, grabbed Vee by the jacket and again, they were on the floor and at each other's throats.

“Escape from Nova?! If you even get powered on?” Kanno got the upper hand and leaned above Vee. “Honestly, I’m tempted! I want to watch what fallback plan you have there–” Vee threw a few punches at random: one hit Kanno straight in the eye, another in the collarbone, but he seemed past caring, too. “Because I could use a good plan out of here myself! So!” And, in split second, Kanno's fingers were searching out Vee’s switch. “Let's get this over with!”

No! Bursting colors, noise, all fades to black. Not powering off-

Vee shut his visor and punched up blindly. He felt Kanno recede and fall flat to the ground, one arm cast limp on top of him.

“Thought so”, Kanno mumbled into the floor panels. “No plan, no concept of consequences, you storm off, pretend you're me without thinking my C-mod can be tracked down anywhere I go. And you're a living, walking tracking device yourself.” He attempted moving his arm away from Vee, but shook and failed. “Now we stop. You're glitching and I can't walk.”

They lay unmoving, Kanno heaving shaky breaths and Vee still trying to steady all impulses. Minutes might’ve passed before Vee raised his head, slurring:

“So you're not switching me off?”

“You wouldn't let me, idiot.” Kanno lifted his hand to cover Vee’s face with it. “Now stop making excuses and start making an effort.”

Vee made an effort to sit up, but punching Kanno again – while tempting – was now beyond him.

“Shut up about my effort. Ever been a slave? No wage or choice?”

“Slave, no.” Kanno’s cheeks flushed, Vee could’ve sworn, while he was following suit and failing to stand up. Vee took care to look at him with proper contempt, mustered up some strength to stand, grasping at a wall, and pulled him up by the hand, letting him through to the wall instead.

“But I can’t say I have a lot of choices now. Novakid, remember? Not that I regret it”, Kanno continued between Vee and the wall. His voice kept distorting in Vee’s mics, but he was probably speaking more to himself anyway. “I'd still pull the debt. Just pick a better first name than Shinya.”

Vee was sure they had no business exchanging smiles at the moment. They limped to the exit, neither capable of standing on his own or pushing the other away.

“Alice too?”, Vee asked off-handedly somewhere between one glass compartment and another.

“Riviera was dying. She’s the good kind of Novakid. At least according to most”, Kanno scoffed.

Vee shrugged, losing support and grabbing Kanno’s arm in the process. Whatever. He also gave up asking why Kanno was working the debt off as a Warmonger, assaulting AI and his own kind alike. Not his business.

Instead he asked “Do I get the disciplinary action?”

Kanno made a sound and Vee was surprised to note that he’s capable of laughing after all.

“So that I have to deal with you and you get the attention you're begging for?”

“I'm not-!”

“Your disciplinary action is staying. If that fails, I still can switch you off and take you to Nova”, Kanno interrupted him when they stopped a few steps from the elevators. Vee faced away, even though it was probably the H, not this guy, that he should be ashamed to look at.

“No, thanks. I'll hang around and get there eventually”, he said. “Might kill you in your sleep meanwhile.”

Kanno actually grinned and Vee felt offended.

“Then you'll get switched off. For now, I have some explaining to do at the bridge. Go see Riviera.” He swiped at both up and down panels for each of them.

When the elevator opened for Kanno, Vee patted his shoulder again.

“The H”, he began and took a while to search for a word. “She's off?”

Without turning around to face Vee, Kanno took a step in.

“What do you think?”, he asked and, just a second later, the door slid shut behind him.


	6. The etymology of enthusiasm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: a bit of referenced gore, non-graphically described police violence against minors

Nic never thought they’d grow to like Alice enough to drop by her workshop every day.

It was a foul place, cramped and messy despite Alice’s best efforts to keep it clean. Must’ve been this ship’s reality-bending properties: nothing ever looked good here. Even the texture of the walls felt gross. Every dent, bump or crack of paint, showing bare metal, had this unaccommodating, prison sort of cold to it.

Or maybe that was just because it reminded Nic of the time they’d gotten arrested.

(The texture of the cell’s metal walls had been the same, sprayed on with layers of cheap paint. Nic had been thirteen and their face had still felt sore from the new C-mod. Especially that said C-mod would keep stinging them with small electric shocks. It had felt worse than when the tracking collar shocks a trespasser. They’d just found out the hard way that C-mods don’t have the factory flaw tracking collars do. You can’t project their serial number onto the holotop, leave it in the dorm and sneak out to see your friends one ring below without surveillance noticing. They’d been caught on the shuttle stop.

Alice had come to the PKC station and Nic had said “Are you crazy?!”.)

Alice wouldn’t remember the texture of the walls. They looked smooth to her eyes.

The place seemed even more cramped than usual. An android left here by Kar, H-type, lay on the counter, separating the damn workshop in half. Of course everyone would go and leave the transport to Nova with the resident dead-end unit.

Looking at he android’s languid face felt like mandatory morgue classes, back at the Academy. Nic might’ve been the only one who hadn’t vomited or passed out, but the memory of corpses transported from Nova – severed limbs, body parts replaced by random C-mods, nobody explaining why – never failed to make their skin crawl. Not even after they’d gotten put in disciplinary for asking. Not even now.

Maybe it was a love doll thing, but the AI looked nothing like Vee. Tall and unsettlingly human-like, down to every skin pore and a silicone netting of veins underneath. If not for skin peeling off in a few places, even Nic’s eyes could’ve been fooled.

Not that appearance would make any difference in the long run, but Nic wished this one looked more synthetic.

Alice didn’t acknowledge Nic’s presence at first. She sat behind the counter, filing a status report, face as dissuaded as they come. Once or twice, she stopped abruptly, shaking her left hand – the one her shield sat in.

“Stop buzzing, I’m sending it, alright?”, she hissed. The HQ must’ve shocked her some, as a reminder about the report. Then, she came back to poring over her screen, mashing it so hard it almost dispersed.

(Back in the Academy Nic would’ve teased her about it, claiming that she's turning into Kanno and needs to see more people.

Back in the Academy Alice would’ve ignored it out of enthusiasm for her task.)

“Need help with… with transport?”, Nic offered while Alice was tapping in a string of not-applicables in the status check window. This wasn’t how blank a status report should be. Not how an android ready for transport should look, either – all belongings left in place, dress, elastic bracelet with a sign “Spirit”, covering the wrist logos.

Not a smart choice. Nic scoffed, but it wouldn’t change a thing. Their colleague was full of stupid, brave, rebellious choices and hopefully she wouldn’t die for that anytime soon.

“Thanks.” Alice smiled faintly and saved the report. “I’m going with Shinya. He says he’s up and about.”

Nic sighed and made a mental note to buy more nanoheal band. Talent Tree Inc. never warned kids about potential reckless teammates while assigning medical jobs. Not like anyone could change their job assignment anyway.

“You know what, if I got my hands on some analog paints”, they said instead of whinging about Alice and Kanno’s suicidal instincts, “I could fix the décor here while you’re away. Like, walls and stuff, or I can do a holo installation even now, or–” Nic broke off in a squeal as Alice jumped over the counter with a hearty hug.

“No! Wait with that until I’m here, I wanna see you work!” Alice laughed. Making her laugh was easy, and good. “Like when you always doodled in class? You looked weird at me when I took notes, but I… kind of liked to watch.”

Alice’s stare fell on the counter and she paused, suddenly downcast.

(When Nic had said “Are you crazy”, Alice had gone quiet just like that. Judging by the time, she must’ve snuck out of class in the middle of this whole scandal. There’d been soldiers nearby – one had led Alice to the visiting zone, dragging her by the hand – and she’d been going to say it’s fine, but half of the cadets had been caught and someone had been interrogating Shingo Kanno in the next room as they spoke. Shingo had been the one to find out how to confuse tracking collars. His little brother must’ve been waiting somewhere, too, if he had the guts to sneak out with Alice at all.)

“Yeah”, Nic said, also quieter all of a sudden. “I never got your… Your enthusiasm. For that school, this work… I hated it there.”

They shouldn’t have said it. They should never have, but of course this ship brought out the worst memories, didn’t it? Nic knew better now. For them, PKC meant saying goodbye to ever being a tattoo artist, to seeing their parents. At least it also meant letting them both keep living at the Fifth. Away from the surface.

For Alice, it meant staying alive.

Alice didn’t seem to mind, or just ignored Nic’s words. Humming some downbeat tune, she pressed open a large recess and made a trolley hover out of it. It followed the C-mod in her wrist like an obedient pet, circled the counter and stopped at its side, vibrating lightly. Once the trolley stilled, Alice trotted in place for a bit and made a face like she was about to say something.

“Do I–” Nic pointed to the H-type, but looked to the ugly-textured wall again. Alice nodded and her hands rested gently on the H-type’s shoulders. Nic patted her hand in passing, before standing at the android’s feet.

(Alice’s hands had glued to the cell’s window and wouldn’t let go, leaving prints on the glass, peppered with microscopic scrapes, on her skin and on the window itself. Suddenly, Nic had felt like touching the glass too. It’d been the first time they actually talked. They wouldn’t keep Nic here forever – there had been hardly any cells in every PKC building for a reason.

“It’ll be fine”, Alice had kept babbling to the microphone. She must’ve been standing on tiptoes to reach it. “Asano just. Went and let us off the lecture, she’s talking to Oswald now. All I heard her say was that she won’t have kids jailed over something so stupid. She’s – Nic, how are you so calm about this?!”

“I’m – I’m really not”, Nic had managed. Half of the Academy had gotten caught over their one escape. There’d been no point arguing with Alice or explaining what the soldiers had said. Gateway to riots, that’s what. Plus, if they’d caught Shingo too-

The eyes were wired right into the brain and spinal cord, Nic had thought, brushing their fingers on the cold glass, feeling no heat of Alice’s hand. At least they couldn’t take them out with Nic being there to feel any consequences.

Now their parents – that had been a reason for worries. True, Asano and her husband lived with Oswald and if anyone could talk the principal into taking action, it was her. But normally Oswald wouldn’t lift a finger to defend trespassers. And not even Asano was omnipotent.)

“Think Asano knew? About the rebellion, I mean?”

Alice set the H-type onto the trolley, as gently as she could, and turned back to the wall, as if she too could see the whole story in its texture.

“I mean, she quit Novatronica after this started, didn’t she?” Nic smiled, catching Alice’s look. “Not like she lives in a basement. Well, to be fair, she probably does–”

“I meant before.” Ever the conspiracy theorist. Even after Nic had been let off with just a written reprimand back when they were thirteen – she had said it was because of Asano.

To be fair, if Asano had impact and let all culprits over fifteen years old be deployed early into the middle of anti-surveillance riots, she’d be kind of a shitty person.

“Come on, Ally.” Without thinking better of it, Nic defaulted to Shingo’s pet names. “Let’s go to the lot.”

***

“I don’t think she ever expected mass production, you know?”, Alice said once they were out on the corridors. The trolley followed their steps with a quiet hum. “Asano. That’s why she made them... human. As in, DAWN.”

Nic took a breath, hesitated and let it out without a word. They didn’t have to say anything for Alice to imagine all the options they considered. “You’re at it again”. Also, “At least this one is realistic”. But “Doing something later?” too. From the trolley, a thick strand of pink hair slipped down. Alice tucked it back, so it couldn’t get stuck anywhere. Her wrist stung again as she bent it. HQ must’ve received the report.

“You know what, you go ahead and let me fetch a first aid kit.” Nic turned back to the residential area. “I don’t trust him when he says he’s up and about”, they explained and ran off.

Point taken. With all his recklessness, Shinya Kanno might’ve already spent as many years in hospitals collectively as Alice had in childhood. He’d even gone to his own modding appointment while battered from some fall.

(Four years. That’s how long her faulty lungs hadn’t let Alice see the world outside the hospital, before she signed up with Talent Tree, got a debt for life and a Nova appointment. Not many kids would’ve gotten this sort of way out of the surface’s pollution – but she had. She’d live, breathe, talk, run and – as the Talent Tree clerk had said – even make a good combat officer. If this was real, genetic mods must’ve worked wonders.

She’d been pretty excited when they transported her to a bed on one of Nova’s hospital levels – next to another one, labeled “Kanno, T.” in a small room on the junior ward. The quiet kid with a broken arm and some band aids all over, sitting on it, had seemed just as excited, but in a different way.

“Your child will have to heal up from the accident first”, an aide had said to the quiet kid’s parents and an older boy, who’d come along. Before, the aide had asked a million times if they really wanted to pull a debt that the kid would be paying off until old age. The parents – a man in a PKC uniform and a woman in office clothes, not unlike Alice’s mother’s – had shrugged while the kid had nodded vehemently, staring at the bedsheet. Then everyone had left, the older boy saying “Good luck, bro” through the door.

Alice had kept fumbling with her holotop all the while, finally managed to pull up a touch panel and sent a screen the kid’s way. The kid had dodged at first, as if she’d really thrown something.

 _Hey, don’t worry_ , her fingers had moved on their own . Four years could do that _. I can’t talk, but you totally can. Name’s Alice, and yours_?

“Shinya”, he’d mumbled after a while of hesitation.)

Not that Alice would tell anyone how they’d met. Not even Nic. Not if Shinya didn’t. The days back in Nova, when they both kept falling to the floor, unable to walk, see straight or not throw up because of post-mod instability, were their own business.

Her C-mod kept stinging when she got to the chaser lot. Of course they wanted her to call back, but why give her a sore wrist over this? She had to retype the combination on the hovercar’s panel a few times, because her hand kept slipping. Someone at the HQ should take responsibility for making her job harder.

She navigated the trolley with her stinging hand into the back trailer. Before closing it, she made herself give the H-type one more look. Might be only the second one they were transporting – an I-type had been first, found on the same day as Vee – but she really needed to get used to this.

Earlier that day, Vee had visited: shaking, erratic from his escape and from a huge datadump, wondering if she could do something about it. She could fix the wiring and impulses, but not DAWN. The datadump would linger for as long as he’d take to sort it out himself. Given the time she’d spent tracking visualizations of his messed-up responses and listening to poorly synthesized, hateful rambling, she couldn’t even hope the H-type would be reintegrated like Vee. The HQ and Nova must be not exactly thrilled with AI reintegration results in the long run.

Small, quiet steps interrupted Alice from thinking further and, on some level, she was glad.

“What was that she said? On her guest lecture?”, Nic asked, standing in the middle of the lot with a first aid kit in her hand. “Respect life or… Change your job? I didn’t even wanna remember, it smelt of big money.”

(Alice had expected someone like Nova’s medical aides, on finding out Aika Asano would be coming from there for guest lectures. Someone sterile, pompous, in blinding white overalls. Not a tiny woman dressed like human workforce straight off the surface. Young – or with good beauty mods – hair down, navy shirt and torn cargo pants, she’d stepped into the aula behind Oswald’s imposing figure and took the podium.

Then again, how else would Aki’s mother look?

Someone behind Alice had joked about a mistake. She’d shushed the girl and turned to the Kanno brothers. Shingo had shrugged, unfazed, with a bored Nic piggybacking on his shoulders. Shinya had gotten pale, because him being there instead of his own curriculum was against the rules.

“What I’m going to say”, Asano had boomed too loud at first. The wall holos had showed her wince and adjust the mic level. “–might sound to you like pep talk for medical officers. But I do think it’s not being taught enough.”)

“Medicine, engineering, cybernetics – all sciences serve life. When life is disrespected – they lose their purpose.” Unlike Nic, Alice had great memory for words. She was speaking off-handedly now and the scene replayed in her head like a script. “Life that starts with birth and fabrication alike. Biological and artificial. Once you pour your heart, mind and effort into engineering, you will learn to notice the life you are creating.”

Nic shook their head with a half-laugh and put the kit in the center of the driver’s seat, so there would be no possibility of missing it. Stepping away from the car, Alice went in circles around the lot, going on and on.

“I may not assess an individual curriculum in this Academy, but my review will influence your overall grade. The rule I'm laying out is: Respect life in all its forms.” She paused for breath and spun around on her heel. Then, coughing, she lowered her voice pitch to match Asano’s. “Biological or artificial. If you give me a reason to notice you either purposefully harm, or disregard the well-being of a living, feeling creature – consider these lectures failed, and the purpose of your career – up for your own revision. That’s how it went.” She sped up towards the end.

“Thanks, I didn’t want to remember.” Nic nudged her side on their way out. “Told you. Easy for Asano to say.”

(Easy for her to say, Alice had thought two years after the guest lecture, as an officer dragged her by the wrist to the cell Nic was in. Years later, this tug would be what she’d feel whenever she saw a black and red uniform.)

She nodded, turned away from the car and left, refusing herself a third look.

***

The Asano residence felt like an island where post-war chaos would never reach. A small world, soft and hazy, with Ink stuck in its middle. They had hints of the outside – the news holo launched by Aki every morning, all bland and hyping up the peace that ensued after the PKC’s victory. It only left Ink restless and Aki skeptical.

“I mean, I might've been out for a year, but it couldn't have finished so soon!” Aki gestured vividly, still wary of getting too close to Ink or touching them. He should know better than to be scared at this point. He wasn’t scared of anything else.

Ink could agree. They were sure of having woken up in the Asano house straight off the battlefield, even if they had no way of confirming or remembering. The only memory they could hold on to – the other K-type – kept eluding them and reappearing, clear as if it happened here and now, then gone in an instant.

 _(A high ceiling with a round skylight window – somewhere in the Second Ascendancy_ ) and here, in the green-coded quarter of the Third. Aki had already left somewhere, but voices from the news holo carried on. ( _A voice at the end of the hallway – Ink thought they’d been alone all along. Two brisk walks, or just one with an echo. The door slams and one rhythm of steps goes amiss._ )

 _(Someone falling onto the floor_ . _)_ Ink spun around to find the source of the noise and rushed forward. _(_ _First time they met, Ink and whoever it was, down on the floor, their shoulders shaking; nails digging helplessly into their skin because only humans could cry_ . _)_

They're here again. The other K-type is back. Just up the stairs, their network is broadcasting. Ink ran up. ( _Be there. Don't vanish. Don't datadump me_.)

Just three stairs, two-

The girl, Misora, was scrambling up in the entrance to her room, gathering the scattered contents of her backpack – audio headset, holotop, canned drink. She cursed quietly as she pulled the zipper. Only then her stare fell on Ink, unmoving on the last stair – and hardened.

“Are you okay?” Ink’s programming kicked in. It shouldn't have, they recalled overwriting the code. “Do you need help?”

She glowered and mumbled something non-committal before stomping into her room, the door sliding shut behind her no less telling than if it had slammed.

Not here, Ink realized. One floor up.

They had never consciously been to the floor above, although they’d come down from it with Aki, upon waking up. A faint signal of a local network – different from the house's general network, but almost identical to Ink’s and familiar – was coming from upstairs.

Another AI was here. An AI Ink had known.

After some hesitation, they continued up the stairs.

 _(First flight of stairs, second – the other AI is with them, their hand in Ink’s. Someone's leading them up_.)

A door at the end of the staircase, right under the skylight, was open. The network signal grew stronger. Inside, there was a dark room, lit only by several holoscreens, located all around. From the time they’d been powered up, Ink had remembered an open, glass ceiling and was no longer sure whether they found the same place.

 _(Long and winding passageway. “Don't worry”, the AI leading them verbalizes, “we took over the building. The exit is near”_ . _Ink’s copy squeezes their hand_ . _)_

Rows of boxes and parts of prehistoric machinery Ink had never even seen before, lined a narrow path across the room. This was, beyond doubt, not the passageway from their memory, blurry as the memory was. Dimmed, blue light glowed at the end of the path. It came from six large, rounded screens, creating a hemisphere around an enormous computer unit, looking as if it had been assembled from mismatched parts over the years. For a second Ink, with growing fascination, was certain it was the computer broadcasting; then again, it couldn't have. The OS wasn’t DAWN.

Someone was curled half-naked in the same chair Ink had woken up in. A row of plugs and wiring was running all along their spine, connecting them to the unit. Ink circled the person to see their visors, giving out a glow of Nod connection.

The AI stirred and blinked, losing connection and shutting off the network in an instant; their visors came back to a regular setting. They looked around and verbalized:

“Aki, I told you not to–” Professor Asano straightened up in her chair, as much as the wires in her back allowed her, and looked right at them. “Oh, it's you, Ink. Would you care to help me out?”

Awakened AI, when given a good proxy, could tamper with any machine, save for their own wireless receptors. Even with a common holotop, all its human activity-detecting factory constraints included. Humans would need an unrestrained machine unless they’d been made navigators in the PKC program five years ago. At least that’s what Ink had thought until now.

Also, there was the sheer number of plugs.

For AI, connecting as many receptors to the Nod as the professor just had was either brave, or stupid. If you were in control, you could enhance the speed and capacity – but for most part, this would cause an overload, like an enormous datadump. The effect on humans couldn’t have been better.

The professor’s network was gone, so Ink verbalized.

“What are you?”

Asano looked at them, bubbling up with laughter.

“Human. More C-modded than most, sort of like a navigator. Mine was the prototype. So, will you help me here?” She glanced at a spare Nod cord, lying about under her chair. “Extensive data damage on a Paranod bypass, should be much quicker to fix for two. We can switch places if you want a full connection.”

“No, thanks.” Ink crossed their arms and stood up firm. She had never appeared downstairs or talked to anyone for longer than a few minutes since their first day, but they still felt like they knew her. Perhaps she could break through the haze and give back their memories, if she was so in control. “Will you answer some of my questions if I help you?”

She disconnected most of her wiring, leaving only three basic cords.

“This is exhausting”, she sighed to herself. Ink could only imagine the strain plugging in completely would cause. “A chat during work is a small price, isn't it? Come online and we'll talk. You're the only one I can ask.”

There was only one chair in the room. Ink took a seat, cross-legged on the floor, picked up the cord and brushed their hair up to uncover the main port, under the safety switch. Asano sent a series of addresses as soon as they connected.

“There was a huge rebel broadcast. Government specialists discovered and switched off a few channels it used. Plus, they masked plenty of repositories in the process. We're trying to recover them. Or rather, I am. You find an available domain and channel for transfer.” She paused for breath and Ink wondered why she was verbalizing in the first place. They must’ve sent a question on reflex, since she sent back a sloppy, embarrassed collage. “I'm sorry. I'm not good at this. Oh... I don't need to tell you to avoid connecting through the cluster, right?”

Of course Asano wouldn’t connect through it, but Ink wondered about something else.

“Why are you recovering it?”

They weren't looking at Asano anymore; they were entering addresses and investigating a batch of channels, discretely looking up its history for other AI and trying to keep the process hidden from her radar. Seemed futile to do so – most channels had no registered activity for months. All AI communication had been erased and gone.

Asano replied and startled Ink.

“I've been hired for maintenance. We'll talk about an actual reward for you, of course.” She smiled when Ink focused their eyes, taken aback. “We're perfect for the job. I'm under arrest and you're not legally here.”

“Who hires people for maintenance...” They thought back to the conversation with Aki. “Jerome Walden?” They paused to send her a row of safe addresses they’d just generated.

She flashed a visualization of a thumbs up, imitating AI collages again. It looked like human emoji, not a real emotionally charged image.

“He's a... preservationist. The Paranod existed before the central cluster, you know?”

Ink projected a gently curious mist in pastel colors.

“Well, some was made lately, by a few people and AI, specifically to communicate without the content fees, or history tracking... but the rest of it? It's what’s left of an old worldwide network, back when it wasn't entirely centralized. And – oh, some servers are still on Earth. I’ve even seen maintenance missions, you know?” Her voice grew impassioned and in the moments Ink focused their eyes, they saw her beam. “Jerome takes great care to keep them connected. To preserve our history, our art – everything the Republic banned after we united and there was no point investing in Earth anymore. I get to access all this and pass it on. Of course, it takes a CEO and me to keep it all under the radar but... He made my neural system too. Can you please build in a firewall for this? Base it off the one I made, if you will, just make sure there's not much repetition” She sent them another data bundle. Purely pragmatic and not containing a collage.

Ink went through Asano's code and started changing the variable parts before thinking better about showing their skills. After a moment, they made amendments for her chaotic style – may be better if their own involvement stays a secret.

“I went to some trouble to have it installed in my body”, she continued, amazingly chatty for someone who spent days on end locked away; or maybe this was the reason. “It was a seventy-percent risk of death. But carpal tunnel was at hundred percent of coming back after it healed, so I took it. My daughter says I could just have my wrists modified without the trouble, and my son avoids looking straight at me because of how the army uses the tech now, but...”

“Wait.” Ink finished the firewall and started connecting to the repository Asano had salvaged. That's why there was no AI on the network? That's why the revolution failed? Because of Novatronica? “So the bypass network is tracked?!”

“I don't think he cares who uses it, as long as they don't give away the preservation work. I don't track it either. Say... Could you help me whip up an encryption for the transfer? Variations triggered overtime would be best.”

Ink must have done it a lot during the rebellion. Now, they started writing on reflex.

“Not caring is easy, isn't it?”

Asano's face stayed ineffable.

She had asked Ink for help without thinking, or checking if they can. Ink had accepted it as normal because of how familiar she felt, but it was not. It was far from normal. They talked for the first time today. Now it was time for their questions.

“How did you know? That I'd create an encryption from scratch? That I'd help you?”

Asano unfocused her eyes – they must have been C-modded as well.

 _You use DAWN_ , this time, the words appeared as characters instead of being said aloud. _I wrote it._ _I used consciousness-to-code transfer._ _Of course you have my skills._

Ink had known, on some level – but knowing without hearing, without talking to her, was one thing. Asano conducted a transfer through both their local networks and Ink jolted up. Time was running out with the stream of data.

“Wait.” They halted the flow to buy time. “First, tell me how I got here. Where did you get me from? I had life before I started up here.” Plenty of nonverbal messages poured out along with their words, but they had no time to wonder whether Asano understands them or not. She had written them, she should at least understand the language.

Asano frowned, sorting out Ink’s words from what almost took the size of a datadump, mouthing parts of the message.

“You don't remember?”, she replied at last, worried and almost remorseful. She'd better be, for coding someone that couldn't even sort out their own memories. Ink didn't bother to verbalize, shaking their head.

“There was... an attack on our Ascendancy, one of the last in the AI rebellion”, Asano said immediately. “The PKC apprehended six, maybe seven AI attackers, they were to be transported to Nova. I'd been trying to get someone to help around here in case of emergency and... Managed to take one.”

How she had done that didn’t matter to Ink. The scientist who maintained an entire bypass network, along with the most prominent corporate CEO, was bound to have a few strings to pull.

There had been others. Six, maybe seven.

“Who were they?” Generic images of other AI, mixed with the blurred memories of Ink’s escape, between words.

“I don't know. I didn't think about checking.”

She cringed and Ink mirrored, like a human.

(“ _You’re too human for your own good”, Ink smiles and the other AI punches their shoulder_.)

“Would you create a backup vault for me?”, Asano asked, straightening up in her seat. “Of your memory? I'll work on it and I... Might be able to do something.”

The offer rang of bright, alarming colors in Ink’s system – giving a hard copy to the human who had made them, the human who connected to Ink in a way they couldn't name. Still, she was the only person who could read it.

“I will.”


	7. Long Live the Republic

The first observation that Vee made, after clearing out most of the datadump from his network, was that Kanno could lie without batting an eyelid.

Kanno stood in the middle of the cockpit, rubbing his right wrist, where one part of his C-mod was, and being obvious in trying to hide it. A hemisphere of screens around him projected a silhouette of an older, pale human in full uniform, glaring down at him. Vee had intended to come in, seeing the open door, but chose to avoid being pulled into the awkward videocall and wait until it's over.

“She just reached the HQ for her feedback session. However, the QA check of her next reports should be your task, sergeant.” The human on the other end folded his arms. Kanno stood at attention, legs almost not shaking from the previous fight.

“Yes, sir. I'll work with Riviera to solve the issue, Commander. Thank you for bringing this to my attention”, he said and Vee longed to see him and Alice arguing over a report. Must be spectacular. “Of course, I realize my unit’s visibility now. But I must ask you to reconsider suspending her now, since she's been doing an outstanding job on repairing our special member...”

Special.

“Keep in mind that giving you this post was about evoking your people’s emotional response. Not your own, sergeant.” The old human made a grimace. Could be a smile. “Your unit really cannot bear another slip-up after the last incident.”

Kanno remained Kanno, that is to say deadpan. Vee could see his fingers twitch at his sides, but that was it.

“Releasing our K-type to lead us quicker straight to the rogue H was part of our action plan”, he lied immediately, looking the other human flat in the eye. Vee had full intent to start calling the guy “his organic” if this kept up. “The havoc he wreaked in the process, however, was not. He’s performing penalty assignments as we speak.”

Vee examined his own fingers in the faint light from the holoscreen coming from behind the door. He had gone to see Alice and treated himself to a long maintenance standby after having last seen Kanno. Then, he’d woken up refreshed, with the C's and the H coming up in his code only sometimes, and gone out to look for anyone who would give him something interesting. Come to think of it, he’d spent the past few hours frustratingly ignored.

“Shall I report at the Academy for the recruit, sir?”

“First things first. The H is to be registered at Nova's inventory today. You provide the cargo”, the commander said. “You may send your deputy ahead.”

The conversation went on for several boring minutes more. When it finally ended, Kanno dispersed the screen, his hand unusually stiff, and turned on his headpiece comm instead.

Another observation Vee made was the softness that appeared in Kanno's voice whenever he was speaking to Sangare.

“I have no one else to ask. You go ahead today and I'll go to Nova, now we both have our favorite tasks. Then we can both go kill Riviera for getting our asses in trouble... Welcome back, disruptive influence.” He sent Vee a side-stare while leaving the bridge and gestured for him to come. “Sangare refuses to shut up if I don't say hi from him... and since you handicapped my walking, you have a penalty task of helping me transport the H to Nova.”

Great – a guy who’d just flat-out bluffed in his boss’s face was telling Vee to go take another AI for… for probably recycling. The fact that Kanno is too stupid to live, but too hard to kill, was not a new observation. A trip to Nova seemed good enough for Vee to at least check whether staying there would make any strategic sense. He followed Kanno, watching him finish the call and make a few attempts to disconnect the headpiece with stiff fingers, until he succeeded.

“Your mod?”, Vee asked, catching up and gently prodding Kanno’s hand.

“It's fine.”

It was not Vee’s business either way.

“Don't try anything unauthorized. My hands may be tired, but I'm still armed”, Kanno said as soon as they boarded the hovercar. Turned out Vee would have to connect himself to the console, because of whatever happened with his C-mod. Maybe he’d crash if Kanno didn’t shut up.

“I'll take over on the way back. Seriously?” He didn’t shut up. Instead, he changed the topic, picked up a compact first aid kit lying on the passenger seat on second attempt, and flung it to the back. “It's not that bad.”

Vee shook his head because honestly, it was a miracle Kanno hadn’t annihilated himself yet.

There was a vast set of airways connecting each Ascendancy to the separate dome, containing Nova Research Foundation. Back when the moloch had been launched by Novatronica, it was supposed to stay under the common jurisdiction of the Republic, independent from any Ascendancy. Any but the First, as usual. The illuminated, hive-like construction, with many entrances and sub-constructions, harbored a closed-off, bustling city with over sixty levels of laboratories, residential districts and service facilities.

They approached it from the Fifth Ascendancy’s level. Few vehicles kept flying in and out of the place once Vee and Kanno drove in and the small traffic was easy to navigate. Vee had expected crowds.

“A pass to Nova is hard to get”, Kanno said when asked, browsing his work holotop and pulling up a pass of his own. Vee noticed his fingers had started bending normally, if slower. Good. Maybe Kanno wouldn’t shut down on the way and give them both trouble. “Get us to gate twenty, should say Cybernetics. Only one we can go through.”

Vee bit down a comment and switched to the vehicle's cameras to examine the gates, surrounding the foundation. Right – there were gates and windows, all of them round orifices in the luminous white walls. Easy to mix up. Most of the windows were either obscured by heavy blinds, or displaying holos with archival records of Earth's flora and images of outer space. A few had an open view – must be the service facilities.

They circled half of the place and got a good look at it, before seeing a flashing number 20 over an opening. This was also the moment when Vee detected the local network. A basic connection for guests with strong redirection to the central cluster, then a few more instances that looked by far more promising.

A two-way passage, with at least ten weapon scanners throughout its length, led them up to a row of inner gates, each a closed-off booth. The network signal grew stronger and Vee synched with the hovercar's Nod card as a proxy to look closely at the encryption. The codes looked almost too basic and repetitive – similar to the ones Break must’ve cracked in the hospital. He should be able to get past the redirection by writing in a similar string and reusing the firewall pattern.

The first string wiped itself as he entered it. Vee had predicted something like this – he proceeded to recreate the lost line after deviating from the primary pattern. He filled the missing characters, reused Break’s encryption that introduced new variations overtime, filled the missing–

“Vee! Stop breaking things!”

The car slowed down, then quickened erratically and its localization displayed the First Ascendancy. It hadn’t even been a second since entering the first code. Vee checked the connection, then focused his visor and saw the last of the console screens break into small error pop-ups. Kanno's heavy stare was waiting for him to notice, clearly questioning whether to throw him out already, or wait until he explains himself.

“It... started wiping the proxy.” Vee stuttered while stopping the vehicle in mid-air. Kanno looked anything but appeased, so Vee closed out the pop-ups, blocked the connection and produced a better explanation.

“I tried hacking the network, but it kicked me out and started wiping the proxy.” He paused, thought about something unrelated and added: “The proxy being this thing's Nod card, happy?”

Kanno went from menacing to dumbfounded, sliding deeper into his seat and deflating completely. This was new. Vee wouldn't have pegged him as the type to let things go.

“I'm still your superior, not your accomplice”, he said, with a deep sigh and a hand over his face. “Are we treating each other seriously!?”

Vee rewound to the sheer stupidity of his own words.

“Sorry”, he said, discarding the weird mental image of patting Kanno's head to help him cope, and making yet another observation: organics, to all appearances, could glitch. “I... forgot I shouldn’t tell you.”

The entirety of Kanno's posture looked so defeated that Vee added, not even satisfied about breaking him:

“It wasn't even worth it. Are you okay? Want to reprimand me?”

Kanno processed something for most of Vee’s speech. The last suggestion triggered a response and he managed:

“Fix what you broke and move, we're stopping traffic.”

Vee generously ignored the fact that there was no traffic and moved, after isolating all wiped clusters in the car’s computer. As they approached the booths, he glanced once more at the H, reclining in the back, and wondered what she’d been trying to accomplish by going here without a plan.

They stopped inside a booth. Kanno – mostly over his shock – got off and approached a counter. A heavily C-modded organic in some variation of a Warmonger uniform sat behind it, giving them a bored look. Two other humans, in the same getup Vee or Kanno had, stood on both sides of the counter, barely even blinking. Kanno displayed the pass again and placed it against a code reader, built into the counter.

“One handover, sergeant?” The middle guard sent a screen into the air, reading a list in tiny font off it. Then he looked at Vee; the screen grew transparent and followed his modded left eye. “The other one'll need powering down too.”

Both Vee and Kanno looked back with unnervingly identical expressions and a quick “Excuse me?”. At the same time, Vee discretely examined the surroundings for a quick enough way back to the car and out of here. The guard shrugged, while the other two glanced at them, still unmoving, if a little more tense.

“Post-war measures. AI gets powered down and stays out–” He got interrupted by Kanno's impatient wave. Vee looked around some more. Maybe he could climb the air lock down if the car doesn’t launch.

“Wait, let me–” It took Vee aback how soft Kanno sounded when he started talking. Then he faced the guard, his voice hardened and Vee understood he hadn’t been talking to the guard before. “Mind your rank, private. And pull our contracts from your base.” There it was, the “part of our action plan” tone. “Mine and for Vee. Just Vee. He's here on recruit terms, not on prisoner terms.”

Vee caught on. Talk now, climb the lock later. He nonchalantly stepped closer and said “Yeah, yeah, long live the Republic, I'm one of them and stuff”, making a point by taking Kanno's hand in his own, swinging it a little and leaning on the counter. For split second, Kanno held on with a hint of amusement, then attempted to murder Vee with a glare, slapped his hand off and continued.

“And in my contract you can see I'm obliged to impartial treatment of my crew. I have to refuse your orders... And should expect a compliant alternative is offered.”

The guard tapped at the screen for a while, creating a distinct impression of tapping anywhere at random, then let out a few annoying hums in an exchange through his headpiece comm. Finally, he noticed them again.

“You got clearance from commander Conrad”, he said, “but I have clearance for our rules and seniority doesn’t matter. Either the robot is off and stays here, or you both go in restrained. Via the sensitive experiment entrance. Sir.”

Kanno shot him the coldest of looks.

“Is this a joke?”, he and Vee asked in synch: Kanno politely, Vee ready to punch things. For a glimpse the guard seemed lost for words, but the other two took a slow step forth, so he droned again:

“Last time they ran free here, they hijacked a lab and created enough Hellwalker to kill all of us. For all I care, anyone can be an accomplice. Cuffed or out.”

Each bodyguard took one of them by the elbow. Kanno first turned to Vee – Vee repaid with the smallest nod – then answered.

“Cuffed, get this over with.” And, raising his hands to surrender, added in an unfitting tone: “And he's a recruit.”

Vee had no idea what sensitive experiments were, but judging by how their entrance was guarded – something AI-related. With hands constrained behind their backs, they walked a corridor spiked with sensors and cameras, to enter a spacious elevator made of blank, white walls. The H’s trolley followed Kanno’s C-mod, undisturbed by the cuffs. Vee stepped in last, itching to poke at a bonus constraint around his neck, blocking off network reception. It felt heavy.

As they got shut in, Vee stared at the back of Kanno's head, at his ridiculous long hair and unflinching straight posture, like he wanted to make himself taller. This brought no reaction and Vee formed an inexplicably angry observation: he had no idea how to distinguish if Kanno was bluffing or really that stupid.

“You think you can make it fine?”, he blurted out without thinking. Kanno turned around to face him, every single movement loud in the isolated compartment’s silence, and shook his head.

“No, why?”

“Because it's not. Because you're really that stupid, that's why.”

Vee turned away and fixed his stare on the H's face, not even trying to guess what she had been thinking anymore. A short laugh, which he’d only heard once, made him look back to Kanno. Observation: it sounded nice.

“Says someone who told me flat-out about hacking the network.” He wasn't even trying to sound serious anymore. Vee figured it served him right. “Don’t think of living it down.”

For Kanno's poor standards of self-expression, he was beaming. Vee made a mental note to punch him in the face after they both get uncuffed. He turned his back on the idiot once again and leaned on the trolley. It receded softly towards the floor, making him wobble on his feet, give up and sit.

Three eyes of cameras, soundlessly circling the compartment right under the ceiling, observed them while tilting from one corner to the other. Vee amped his sensors up a notch, to figure out whether the elevator was moving at all. It was – as silent as the cameras, but with a barely noticeable turbulence every now and then. For a moment, it seemed like the entire place consisted of only one elevator, with two androids and an organic in it; still, Vee recalled the gigantic hive all around, far less bustling that it had been built to be. Someone, in some way, had used the bypass network from inside that hive, despite the wiping software kicking in after less than a second of tampering with the connection. Someone wanted the H to come and she’d taken the risk, out of what seemed like pure desperation. Perhaps someone would want Vee to come along if he could bring himself to allow being powered down.

He supposed he still could pull it off. The cameras lowered their flight and rose up again, spinning slowly along a sinusoidal track. Kanno bobbed his head at them and down at the floor again, face annoyed. Apart from the H, everyone in the room were cuffed – no C-mods, no lethal potential. Kanno surely wouldn't have switched Vee off if he tried, nor could he cause serious harm. Still, if Vee attempted to attack him, kick or bite, he had an advantage now – and the cameras would record it and intervention would come. If he dared, he could take the risk and stay.

Break would go for it.

But Init – no, Vee – was not Break.

“We're recruiting someone?”, he asked completely out of context instead. He got a dry answer, along with a pair of raised eyebrows.

“Yes. And, for the record, eavesdropping on bridge-level meetings is forbidden.”

Somehow, this reaction felt reassuring.

The door clicked open. Vee sheepishly stood up, all his warning signals suddenly active. There was a beamproof pane behind the door. Another human stood behind it, this time wearing some white overalls, and moved his modded hand towards the trolley. Maybe attacking him would be a promising – and much more satisfying – plan for Vee if the pane didn't only open in a circular hole wide enough to let the trolley through.

The human carefully deposited the H into a transporter of his own and pushed the trolley back. Strike him, make him get away from the H and never touch her again, like she had wanted. Land together with her, wherever she was now headed – everything out of Vee’s reach, his own fear and the glass wall away.

Once the wall closed, the human pulled out a pass reader – a smaller version of the one installed back at checkout – held it to the glass and looked from Vee to Kanno, who had no possibility of taking his pass out, then to Vee again, with confusion.

“Not my rules, not my problem. Just read my tracker serial or something.” Kanno shrugged. The other fumbled for a while with the presets on his reader's screen, touched the pane with it once again and eventually asked Kanno to turn around so his C-mod would be within reception.

Vee wasn’t even convinced the tiny, victorious clench of Kanno's jaw was well-founded.

Their departure got delayed with more explanations to a different checkout guard about why exactly Vee was there and powered on in the first place. Vee would probably welcome the familiar seat inside the hovercar with the same sigh of relief as Kanno did, if he was capable of breathing. Instead, he flopped onto it, letting Kanno take over the console, and put himself on standby for the time he figured the rest of the road would take.

***

Vee came to in the familiar sleeping compartment – to sounds of music, quiet and soothing. He looked around. Mess everywhere, topped with a folded Warmonger uniform, which would look neat if it didn’t lie on the floor. Also, a pissed-off Kanno sitting on the bed. A pissed-off Kanno in casual clothes, with wet hair falling on his shoulders.

“Just for my reference. How do I de-standby you?”

So Vee put on the standby for too long, big deal.

“What, Alice didn't tell you?” He sat up. Kanno stood up with a “tsk” and relocated next to him.

“Still getting shouted at for the report thing. I called her but she didn't answer. Nothing to laugh at, you're heavy”, he said. “Next time I'll just leave you in the waste disposal.”

The one with the exit? Vee could go for this.

“You swipe my safety switch, dumbass.” He gave Kanno a light punch on the shoulder – smiling, but a bit riled up already. Somehow they had both shifted to sit closer. “I won't kill you for it when I'm on standby.”

Kanno froze, taking in the new situation, clearly unsure how to react. He eventually punched Vee back and sank into the bed, like a kid.

“You think it's that obvious?”

The music kept flowing from small speakers hovering in the corners, which somehow looked like the elevator cameras in Nova. Nova was the last thing Vee wanted to think of, so he snapped his fingers to hush the thought.

Shut up, data.

One more snap, now matching the rhythm. And again. Snap and snap. Cameras, H-type, gate guard. Shut up, shut up, shut up. Vee moved his shoulders and rocked on the bed, actually starting to have fun.

“Can you let me in on what you’re doing?”

Yeah, you shut up too. Vee’s snapping got more emphatic, but Kanno sat opposite him, confused and, observation: endearing, in a weird way. Right, these were his quarters and he looked like he was thinking of kicking Vee out.

“Dancing.” Vee rocked more and stood up with a tiny leap. “Ever danced?” A step, a twirl. Nova’s fucking network, H-type again. Shut up. He punched the air. “Figured not, that stick’s sitting deep up your ass.” Neither had Vee, but Kanno didn’t have to know. Vee must have seen people dance, at least – at one banquet or another.

“Why would I look stupid like you on purpose?” Kanno sat firmly up. Fake as hell and tenser than ever. Twirl, tap, you’re so joining me. Nanoheal must’ve done its job on that leg by now.

“Well, of course you’d look stupid.” Vee hopped in place and circled the room. “Since you’d be shit at it.”

“No I wouldn’t-!”, Kanno broke off, face red, but he was already standing. Vee shrugged, paced to him, swayed. The music grew faster. “Bet I’d be better than you.”

Keeping eye contact, Kanno raised one arm and snapped his fingers. Crisp, defiant, like he commanded gunfire. Then his arm stayed up, reaching to Vee reaching back. They both moved at once.

“Steady.” Vee flung an arm around the other’s shoulders, halting for a while. This proved counterproductive to dancing, so he moved the arm to Kanno’s waist and recoiled from a gut punch. It wasn’t even strong, but he punched back, saying “Hey, I’m not attacking you!”. The reply took a form of a scowl – probably mirroring Vee’s own.

Kanno was still scowling when he grabbed Vee’s hand, placing it back on his waist. It must have been some kind of a contest for him, so Vee wasn’t going to miss out on it either. Leading them both, he propped his right cheek against Kanno’s hair, remembered about the damn plate and went for the left one. They both sucked at this, no connection to download how-tos and no previous experience.

Several observations happened.

First: touching a human – with all the warmth and pulse and soft, slowly drying hair – was a good feeling. One Vee could get used to.

Second: Kanno was young, not much older than twenty. He also had a capacity – not tendency – to be fun. Also, a hidden script that let him laugh, which he actually used often.

Third: the memories shut up.

Vee stumbled when his foot got stepped on and propped his weight on Kanno, both arms around his waist now. They paused for balance. Kanno’s laugh faded into some words. Only through amped-up sensors and through his quickened pulse, Vee could hear it had been a “sorry”.

Incredible.

“Come on, you moved better in a fight”, Vee said, without much malice, and let him draw away, without much will. Kanno’s face fell and he sat back down, as if remembering who he was with.

“Since you're here and I'm not getting rid of you...”, he started again once Vee leveled with him on the bed. “I've been meaning to ask you.”

Oh no, right?

“The H...” That’s right. Oh no. “Sangare said they’d come without a fight.” He raised his head to look at Vee, as if he was talking about a funeral. At least he was being appropriate. “You know why?”

Trust Kanno to ruin the only fun the two of them ever had.

“She was desperate”, Vee answered flatly, “and I wanna talk about it as much as you about your mods.”

If Kanno ordered him to answer, Vee would start one more fight and not care about the consequences. Nothing like that happened. First, there was just silence, then a hiss as the bed shifted under Kanno’s weight. Finally quiet words.

“Fair enough.”

“What, that's it?” Vee turned around, doubting he would let go of such a question.

“Believe it or not, I wasn't asking for work.” Kanno scooted deeper onto the bed and leaned against the wall. “There were other units on the spot. If the news ever gets to Conrad, that's when I'll have to press. Consider this a heads-up.”

What was that supposed to mean?

“You're weird”, Vee said and stood up. “Not horrible, but weird.”

Kanno eased onto the bed with an actual smile.

“Sounds like a reach, from an AI who starts dancing just because. Be ready in the morning.”

“What, you're taking me to a club? I heard they only open after the satellites go out”, Vee said and tapped the lock.

“You wish. We're picking up Sangare and the new kid.”

His voice didn’t sound as light as when he’d been talking to Sangare himself, but it was the closest Vee had ever heard. Kanno must’ve realized it too, since he trailed off, looking down at his own hands, face back to the shade of pissed-off it had back when Vee booted back up.

Vee slipped out the door for now. Kanno’s annoyance had apparently been contagious since he felt like kicking something in the training room. He should spend the night scouting the bypass network for messages from Nova – which now seemed less logical than before. Still, one weird-as-fuck day wouldn’t convince him it was not an option at all.


	8. Ghosts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: vague child abuse in the form of usual governmental control collar shenanigans.

“How do you switch him back on?!”

“You didn't ask Alice?”

“She’s still in the HQ!” A furious Kanno moved closer to the cam and blocked off the creepy sight of an immobile Vee, sitting straight in the hovercar's seat, with his visor half-open. Must be fun to wake up to. “What do I do?!”

Kar shrugged. At this point, the other Kanno would probably be drawing stuff on Vee’s face. Then again, it was probably for the best that the brothers only looked alike, as far as Kar was concerned. Less so for Shinya Kanno himself – blowing up in rage fueled by panic while trying to keep a poker face all the time must be exhausting.

“Beats me.”

“I’ll power him back on, then murder him”, Kanno decided and Kar felt obliged to intervene, holding back a fit of laughter.

“Hey, leave him be, he's got a lot on his plate.”

That and he probably needed to talk to Vee before Vee gets himself annihilated in any way Kanno sees fit.

There was a soft thunk at the other end of the line: Kanno bumped his forehead against the console. For a few seconds, Kar anticipated him starting up the vehicle and getting into yet another accident on his long list, but it looked like he’d blocked the touch sensors beforehand.

“How was Nova?”, he asked to take Kanno's mind off his self-induced crisis.

“Predictable. Even Vee was good.” Only a sheepish pair of eyes was visible from over the console. He had clearly finished venting and started thinking. “I'll pick you up first thing in the morning. Will...” He raised his head, then paused, looking for the right words and mouthing several options of what he could say.

Kar shook his head, making an effort to smile some more. He – and Kanno, for that matter – would’ve sold the task to Nic if only their rank wasn't too low to sign off at the HQ, intercept anyone and see the principal. The Third Ascendancy’s center was in sight, soon so would be the HQ. Time to disconnect, switch the chaser to manual and prepare for a night in paradise.

“I'll live.”

***

All the upper rings rose closer to the illuminative satellites; they had a blue sky visualization too, making them warmer and brighter. It felt like a different world after working on the surface, where Kar had spent nine years since deployment. Without a chance to go up during that time, he’d managed to forget how bright the artificial morning light was.

There had been always two different worlds, one way or another: years back, that would be the Academy’s omnipresent eyes trailing every cadet’s footsteps, and the orphanage at the surface, where he could first grieve, then study for real and be somewhat free. Now, this.

A new landscape element were the sounds. For all the absolutely well-founded rumors about the orphanage’s dissent, the PKC was far from generous with C-modding its alumni until they proved loyalty. For Kar, that happened to be two years ago and now the Third Ascendancy turned out to have a beat of its own. Steady hum of the gravitational drive beneath his feet, which no one seemed to notice. Hushed-down holos, cars, people, an infuriating gong in the loudspeakers surrounding the PKC Academy's premises, marking the term ending.

Come to think of it, someone had mentioned the gong’s existence to him before. It had been Shingo Kanno and he’d described it as “crisp, yet annoying”. That had been accurate enough for Kar to live on without having heard the thing.

He parked, stepped through the first set of checkpoints and onto the damned courtyard. Compared to back in his day, the place seemed desolate. Fewer teens in black uniforms, waiting for dismissal; fewer instructors.

It got louder, at least, but that’s probably just him.

Past the inner set of checkpoints (one more to go), a young instructor brought a group of graduates to introduce to their new superiors. There was already a bunch of soldiers waiting for their recruits, including no one down with conversation.

The graduates seemed cheerful as ever – which is to say, not at all. More than half of them had marking bands of the state orphanage on their shoulders, like the one Kar had grown up with. Today’s epidemic and the so-called purge of Jemison rioters from thirteen years before had one thing in common: all the surface children left on their own.

The group turned out one cadet short. Anya Zatorski, Young Wolf – figures. When Kar asked, the instructor looked around and palmed her face on instinct.

“Yes, sir, I'll bring her with the next group”, she said. Her name tag said “L. Santi”. She didn’t look the type who would search for a cadet by means of collar activation. Weird that someone like this still slipped under the radar to get hired. “Do you mind waiting?”

This seemed headed in unpredictable directions.

“I have somewhere to go here anyway”, he lied on the spot. “I'll come for the next group in an hour.”

All he had to accomplish here was seeing Oswald, but that would have to wait. Still, wandering about looked more fun than awkwardly sitting in one place, making failed conversation and pretending he’s comfortable. There was a massive pillar in the middle of the atrium, with elevators in it. He headed there, trying to look busy.

To be honest, he hoped to not stumble upon a familiar face. With the war winding down and instructors returning to their posts after deployment, this was unfortunately possible. At least the week-long leave was starting now and hardly anyone would be here at this time, apart from security guards.

The only familiar face he might’ve wanted to see – colonel Asano – was already gone for good.

(He’d first met Asano on the fifteenth floor’s deck. He had been eleven and on the run, with a painfully buzzing collar, making him want to throw up. It must have been when he’d typed in a question about the Jemison purge in class and ran out after getting smacked on the hand.

Asking about the Jemison purge turned out banned in class.)

The observation deck must be still there, on the fifteenth floor – unless they repurposed it for training grounds or something. Kar reached the elevator and set it to all the way up, stopped by no one, even though he kept flinching at every sound of steps.

He remembered the deck to be a calming place, with a nice view of the whole ring. If it had been good enough for a scared eleven-year-old on the verge of crying, it should be good enough for a disgruntled adult, too.

(The guy in an instructor uniform must have said something, because he’d looked at Kar, stern and expecting an answer. He’d backtracked when Kar scooted closer to the wall, and made sure his lips were easy to see.

“When I turn this off-” He’d gestured to Kar’s collar, which started making his neck completely numb at this point. “they’ll know where you are, so it’s up to you when. Karim, right? The Jemison kid?”

Kar had nodded with difficulty, really looking at the instructor for the first time. The guy hadn’t looked like he’d drag him back to solitary – although he probably would anyway. For now, he’d sat back at respectful distance and kept his control panel at the ready. His name tag said “Asano”, like the programmer woman.

“Is that where you lost your parents?”, he’d then asked and Kar had nodded again.)

The deck was there, alright, somehow not converted into anything plain and useful. Kids could train here anyway, among greenery and thick pillars, to a decent effect. At least that’s what Kar and Shingo had done, for all six years, ever since training without C-mods had started looking like a good idea (“If we’re not at least decent at analog, someone’ll eventually eat us alive”).

There was someone training here at the moment. Steps and voices echoed among the pillars and Kar decided to go in the opposite direction. An adult soldier must’ve been the last thing those kids wanted to see here.

(“I just bumped into my future boss! And now she hates me!”, Shingo had signed, storming into the deck on their last day in the Academy. The day’d sucked, them being deployed early for messing with the trackers and all, but his over-the-top signing had still made Kar laugh. “Yeah, sure, super funny, she’s literally coming–”

“I know”, Kar had signed back, his joy dying down. Two people had emerged from the entrance behind Shingo’s back. One – a woman he’d never seen in his life. The other – Jun Asano. Not in instructor gear any longer. Kar had held his breath when the colonel raised his hands.

Asano was getting deployed? Was there a war? Why was no one ever telling cadets things?

“Can’t really say it’s up to you when”, Asano’d signed. He’d been practicing. “But at least the assignment I have for you isn’t bad.”

He’d waited until Shingo and the woman exchanged salutes. Only after he and Kar had been the only two people left on the deck, he’d finished.

“You might be able to learn stuff you deserve to know.”)

It was a nicer day than back when he had been deployed – but again, that might be just him. The weather animation department had produced a light breeze. After the surface's eternally stuffy colonies and the Young Wolf's broken air conditioning, it felt amazing. Kar leaned out over the bannister and looked out at the HQ’s grounds.

A frantic move behind his back startled him before he had a decent look. He turned to see a kid. A boy, early teens, stepped from behind a pillar and glared at him.

“Huh? Still here?”, Kar asked before noticing the kid's arm band. Right, he knew the drill now. This one probably had nowhere to go.

The kid recoiled and ran deeper into the deck; steps faded into unison with other quiet noises of people. Kar's first reflex was reaching to stop the boy and calm him down, but there was no point. It's not like he could blame him for such a reaction to soldiers. In the middle of one riot or another, his own sob story of having his family killed by drones in front of his eyes was far from exceptional.

Besides, it wasn’t his task or capacity to be anyone's Jun Asano. He had better things to do.

He barely got back to enjoying the view when something slammed into him. An undefined mass lunged, tackled him and filled his vision with hair. Eyes shut, he fell, grabbing the first thing he could.

When Kar opened his eyes, he saw the Academy's roof and the sky holo above it. Then, raising a hand to his face, he looked at the object he’d gotten hold of. This turned out to be a skinny forearm belonging to a tall, white girl with long, mousy hair.

The girl was scrambling up, shoving things into her bag. When she attempted moving her hand to fix her hair, she noticed she was being held. She froze, turning only her head to face Kar; a pair of vivid blue eyes, peering from between the messy strands, and a face far from smart. Some uncertain silence ensued.

“How about you explain yourself?”, Kar said, not sure whether to laugh or tell the kid off and awkwardly falling in between. The girl eyed her forearm, then him again and tried to pull away.

“Whoa! Okay! Look, not now!” Words started leaving her mouth like a small missile attack and Kar was surprised that his hearing had survived the fall. “I'm super late, I needed to say goodbye, but like! I'm being deployed today and I should be there already so! Gotta run!”

She got up, dusted herself and stopped before bolting forward to glance around at Kar.

“Hey, dude? Need help?”

He didn't, not quite. Still, he sprawled on the ground, hand covering eyes. So that’s why the instructor seemed downtrodden.

The fact that he might’ve as well seen a ghost didn't help.

“If you're Anya Zatorski, save yourself the run and sit down.”

The girl leaned down to take a good look at him, no less confused than right after the fall.

“Yep”, she confirmed and sat cross-legged next to him, chin in hands. “Who're you? Hey, guys!” She turned to the nearest crossing of the pillars and waved. Just as hyper as Shingo would be. “He's not from here, you can come out!”

After trials and tribulations with various unit members – this is it. About one minute together and Shinya Kanno will kill her. Then him. Then he’ll go on a rampage and kill everyone. Not even Vee accomplished that.

Two other girls and two boys came out into the open. One boy Kar had already seen, the rest was older, near Anya's age. They looked Anya’s way, indecisive. She waved once again.

“You go ahead! And do your best!”

She turned back to Kar and his thoughts went on a rapid idea search on how to interrupt her. “

They're not going on break, they're in re-ed and I might not see them in a while. Malati’s nineteen actually, she should've been deployed already but–”

“We should be going.” Kar stood up and reached out to her, in a manner hopefully cutting all discussion short. “Corporal Karim Sangare, your... superior. Come on, up, we'll have your contract signed.”

Anya bolted up without help and ran ahead.

“Right! Shit! I mean, yes, sir! See, I'm not packed yet!”

Mother of fuck. He couldn’t expect a stellar recruit being assigned to the Young Wolf, but this was going overboard. They probably didn't leave her in re-education because this would mean they’d have to deal with her for at least one more year.

“Move, we'll take care of this on the way, I'll tell you about the unit meanwhile.”

He navigated Anya gently inside the building, mentally cursing Kanno, who had deemed him the only one patient enough to take care of all recruits, and sparing some bitter words for Nic, who clearly got promoted too slowly.

“Be glad you weren't deployed nine years ago”, he added, “seems like everyone was stricter back then.”

Right before the exit, Anya stopped in her track and stared him down. Kar made a face, having no idea how to react to this.

“Nine years ago?” She folded her arms. “No way! You can't be much older than me. How old are you?”

“Twenty-five”, he said before thinking better of it. Implying his associations with the one time half of the Academy's cadets learned how to confuse their tracking collars was not his brightest idea.

“Whoa! Early deployment? Not even re-ed?” For Anya’s seemingly poor mental capacity, she was too good at math. Also, her voice was loud enough for Kar to glance around on reflex. They still stood on the deck, now emptied out, save for the cams under the crown of each pillar, and the damn brat was fumbling with her own tracking collar, as if in a sudden bout of telepathy. “What did you do?”

“Not your business. You're not C-modded?” He changed the topic, examining her collar. “If you prod it long enough, it electrocutes you, you know.”

“It won’t, thing’s broken and no one noticed yet” She shrugged, clearly unaware or just lucky – and, more importantly, at last a far cry from what Shingo would say. In fact, Shingo could experience a small crisis at this lack of self-preservation instinct. “And I'm not, unless fingerpads count. Orphanage.”

Right. Arm band. Something must’ve changed about the way things were ran there, because usually orphanage recruits knew what discretion was.

“But that's okay.” Anya slowly looked around and before Kar knew it, she leapt back in a painfully familiar formation, tackling him and trying to pull him down. “I'm decent at analog.”

This ghost nonsense ended here. He grabbed Anya's forearm once again and jumped behind her, locking her in a grip before she stood firm.

“Train on and you might impress me.” He found himself genuinely smiling, letting her go as she went from dumbfounded to admiring. “Who taught you those moves?”

A shrug. “Orphanage.”

They always had ample freedom at the orphanage, but everyone had to go undercover just enough to actually learn common sense and survival instinct. Whatever had changed, hers was clearly lacking if she babbled everything out like this.

“Let’s go.” An ever-watchful cam at the corner of his eye, he dropped the topic and went ahead.

They separated on the middle floor when Kar's comm buzzed, announcing Kanno's arrival. With a sense of impending murder, Kar went down to meet him in the atrium. The second group of cadets was assembling around the same exasperated instructor, who made a panicked face on seeing him. Feeling somewhat sorry, he waved, saying “Found her”, while passing by.

Down the hall, he could already hear familiar voices. That was both good and bad.

“So what, I should carry you through the place?” Oh, great, Vee was here, too. Double the chances of murder.

“Try and you're dead.”

“Reminder: not human. Can't die. You really should've memorized it by now.”

“Reminder: the last 'shut up' was an order.”

There were maybe three times Kar could recall when Shinya Kanno had taken him completely by surprise.

First time: the quiet, thirteen-year-old kid, sneaking out past curfew to say goodbye to Shingo and him being deployed. All while being mortified to be there.

Second time: nine years later, when Jun Asano had already died and Kar had fucked up all his loyalty credit with no one to explain him away. A grown-up Kanno being in charge of his transfer could even make the disciplinary unit seem better. And he cleaned up well, too.

Third time: now.

“What? I leave you be for five seconds and you're best friends?”, Kar asked, to an immediate reaction of Vee saying “It was longer than that!” and Kanno simultaneously protesting “We are not”. On second thought, it was nice to have them both here. Even though what followed was explaining to Kanno that the recruit's whereabouts were, once again, unknown.

Kanno didn't really need to go into what he thought about it; his stare said it all.

“Fine, I need to check something anyway. You two wait here. Don't go away, don't move, don't breathe. The last one went for Vee specifically.” One corner of his lips quirked just a notch up. Vee requited with a full, broad grin and a brief descriptive of Kanno’s intelligence, before the latter walked into some passage out of their sight.

Kar looked back to Vee, gauging his mood. Talking had seemed like a good idea back when he’d thought of it. Then again, the PKC Academy's atrium was the worst imaginable place for talking. Not to mention, what the hell could they talk about? That of course switching off others is not fine, but Kar had done it a few times anyway? Or about being scared shitless of the uniform you had to wear and the person you had to become? And he’d tell Vee what, that it gets better? What was the point of comparing a fresh, gaping wound to a mass of scar tissue that doesn't bother much anymore; dead bodies to ghosts?

“You're not overheating anymore?”, he asked instead, realizing the question’s stupidity. Vee clearly realized it too.

“No. I'm better.”

To Kar's surprise, Vee balled up a hand and punched his shoulder, pointedly looking at a fascinating random group of people further down the hallway. This went down better than expected.

Then, bless shit, Kanno came back.

“Let's just ask someone to help find her”, he said, drawing a small screen from the ‘top on his palm and glancing at the time. “I looked around, no joy, then some brat full frontal bumped into me and ran off without saying sorry or anything.”

Right. Here comes murder.

“Brace yourself.” He was more than a head taller than Kanno. Vee was here. There was still a chance to prevent disaster. “The good news is you found her...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes on why I chose to not reflect the grammar of ASL and write sign language as I would write spoken conversation:  
> \- First of all, it's much easier to understand for readers who are new to the concept of signing, easier to follow the conversation and concentrate.  
> \- I didn't want to other conversation in sign language by writing it down it any differently. The only language that I write down in a different way is AI speak (italics, not parenthesis).


	9. Looking for Trouble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: nothing big for me, but if you're upset by the slightly unhealthy intersection of personal and professional that sometimes messes up handling one person's marginalization in a proper manner, you might want to tread with caution.
> 
> Also the schedule changed to biweekly, as you probably figured out. I have a lot of RL to keep up with and need to rest from creativity as much as I can.

Vee could put his finger on exactly three moments along the way when he could’ve hijacked the car and gone for the powerplant, as planned before. 

The fact that he hadn’t was now growing into a reason for self-loathing on his part. Even if he had a perfect rationale of wanting to see Break again. Regardless, he was now marching through a tenth-floor hallway, trying to keep up with his teammates without losing the new recruit, who was loitering three steps behind, examining him with a persistent stare and not even trying to be discrete. 

His self-loathing must’ve had something to do with the nagging thought about a new plan being in order. The thought needed to stop. Nothing was in order, since the Warmonger factory still stood, and so did the nest. 

“Carry it like an adult!”, Kanno called from over his shoulder and Vee’s first reflex was to check his own empty hands. Only Kanno's heavy stare made him look back to Anya, who kept cheerfully kicking her travel bag in the back. She shrugged and flung it over her shoulder, saying “Yes sir!” in a tone that might be pacifying for anyone who wasn't their sergeant. 

She would make him lose it and this would happen today. Vee couldn't help but be jealous. 

“You know what made me wonder every time I came here as a kid?” Sangare stopped in front of a large door and used his pass. “What parents would hate their kid enough to call her Nebulosa?”

“What's the big deal?”, Vee asked. The name sounded like something an average citizen of the higher Ascendancies would be called. 

“Huh? You came to see Oswald often?” The Anya kid perked up and peered through Sangare's shoulder as he struggled with the pass, failed to open the door a few times and finally pointed to the door while looking at Kanno with theatrical indignation. “So, basically, you can suck in here and turn out okay.”

Sangare was still processing the backhanded compliment when Kanno approached the door, swiped his pass and walked in without stopping for one second. 

“Let's just get your contract signed.” He let out a sigh. “At least she won't keep us waiting, everyone else must've signed already.” 

One more elevator, this time less spacious, took them right under the glass roof, into a vast hall decorated with colorful plants. The air was humid, in a much nicer way than on the surface, and faintly smelling of greenery. Vee must’ve gotten used to such sights back in the Second and the plants made him recall something else, something he couldn't put his finger on. Walking behind Kanno (who used his pass on another door and waited for a response this time around) he brushed his fingers on the tear-shaped leaves of a wispy plant with branches hanging down over their heads. 

This must have been how he’d once seen Break. _Humans dancing and Vee – no, Init, or yet another name – standing under a glass wall, playing with leaves of the exact same plant._ What happened next? There was the lock, cutting away his memories once again and leaving him with remorse at his own betrayal. If betrayal was the right word at all. 

Kanno said something to Sangare about the principal being an old friend of Aika Asano's. The programmer’s name burned with more memories, just like everything in this place. 

They entered a round cabinet with even more greenery all around the floor and walls. Between the leaves, a circle of aquariums surrounded the room, synthetic fish quietly circling them in soft murmurs of water. In the middle of the ring, there stood a semicircular desk. Three holoscreens, enlarged to maximum capacity, surrounded it. Behind them stood a half-empty wine bottle and a glass, with three tiny pink droplets glimmering on its edge. 

An organic stood up from behind the desk: dressed all in black  _and familiar_ . She looked like something that could flourish in deep water, in the darkest of her aquariums: taller than everyone in the room and pale, almost translucent, with overlarge eyes and a floaty mist of light curls around her head.

The rest of humans saluted, standing at attention – even the Anya girl. Vee wouldn't have joined in if Kanno hadn't kicked his ankle, discretely enough to go unnoticed. 

Whoever’s assistant Vee used to be, it had required lots of redundant data storage filled with names and faces . Vee would've erased it all, but Break had said it might come in handy one day. Retired general Nebulosa Oswald’s face turned out to be such a scrap of knowledge. Of course, she had no way of knowing who Vee was and greeted the sight of him with one eyebrow raised – curious, like Kanno, but less nervous. Her look then traveled to Anya and she lit up with understanding. 

“Ah. The HQ's special unit.” Thank you, now having that mandatory line said. 

“Yes, madam!” Kanno stood tight between Sangare and Vee, face blank. Vee could tell he was raging inside, even with sensors below pulse-level. “Sergeant Shinya Kanno, unit leader.”

“Corporal Karim Sangare, second in command.”

“Vee, disruptive inf–” He broke off. A light, but annoying pain seared his left forearm with Kanno pinching it. Vee tried pinching out the word “MOBBING” in Morse code on his ass and got his ankle kicked again before one full letter came out of it. 

Oswald turned her back on them – Vee caught a whiff of wine and some strange perfume as she moved – ignored the incident and took a step Anya's way. Kanno heaved a small breath of relief. 

“Zatorski, right?”, Oswald asked and Vee could’ve sworn he saw a shiver running through Anya's body, head to toe. Really, now, she dealt with Kanno's temper, she shouldn't be afraid of anyone. “Let's get your contract.” She flicked her wrist. One screen separated itself from the circle around her desk and floated up to her. She touched three small fields to light them up and show where the others should sign. “Direct supervisor first, if you will.”

Kanno stepped forward to swipe his mod on the screen. Vee understood why Anya had been shaking – he couldn't help feeling awkward without the familiar presence by his side. What has the world come to: Kanno, comforting. 

“Anya's fighting style.” Sangare interrupted the silence all of a sudden and Vee saw Kanno's shoulders tense up. “It's unique, did you know?” 

It took the principal a second or two to realize the words had been directed at her and slowly look away from the screen, processing the new disturbance of her routine. 

“That's good, I presume?”, she said, knitting her eyebrows together and looking at Sangare as if she noticed his presence only now. 

“I don't know.” He turned both palms up. Vee saw Kanno shake, stiff as if there was a tracking mod running through his spine that just activated. “I use the same style... and I can think of one more person who did. I was wondering if this is why she was assigned to us.”

Nebulosa Oswald slowly turned her head from Sangare to Kanno and back. Her face stayed perfectly still, without a wrinkle or twitch, as she answered. 

“I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, corporal.”

Anya’s stare traveled around in confusion and stopped on Vee for some reason. He requited the same clueless look. This was when Kanno took up, voice still warm and confident as ever. 

“Sangare was one of the two cadets deployed early nine years ago. Jun Asano's unit.” He put a finger to the edge of the screen, turning it to Oswald. “We were thinking that since he wasn't actively teaching, the style...”

“Ah.” Oswald intercepted the screen with her finger and pulled up her narrow sleeve to uncover a delicate, silver vein of C-mod, running along her forearm. “Now I remember. Asano family's unusual friend group.”

The word “unusual” had the same ring in her mouth as the phrase “special unit”. She placed her signature on the screen and pushed it on to Anya, who clumsily caught it as it was already drifting past her and onto the nearest pot plant. 

“You served under Jun Asano.” Oswald side-glanced at Sangare. “And you were his son's best friend.” She proceeded to look straight at Kanno. “I would assume you both know that Aika already asked me questions around the same matter. And if I did not answer to Aika Asano...” She caught the screen drifting back from Anya and examined the signatures with reflexive focus. “Why are you under an impression that I would divulge to the two of you?” 

At one beck of Oswald's finger, the screen floated back to its place, in the lineup around her desk. The principal took a step back to Anya, but stopped halfway through to look at everyone once again. 

“Your name is Kanno, come to think of it?” When Kanno confirmed, her stare hardened. “I would expect more prudence of someone whose unit is already treading on edge. Zatorski?” She put her arm on Anya's shoulder, her whole attention on the girl and away from Kanno in an instant. “Come, we'll fill the orphanage clearance and take off your band. You'll join your teammates later in the HQ.” 

She guided Anya to the desk, hand still on her shoulder, and looked at the team once again. Sangare inhaled sharply and opened his mouth, but Kanno gripped his forearm and shook his head, earning an incredulous look in return. 

“Officers”, Oswald said, “To respect my past friendship with the Asano family, I'll forget about this conversation altogether and take your leave. Wait for your teammate in the HQ.” 

Kanno saluted and turned away, nudging the others to do the same. As they were crossing the doorway, the principal held them back. 

“One final piece of advice”, she said, sending a different screen Anya's way. “Don't go looking for trouble where there doesn't have to be any for you.” 

They stormed back through the hall, Vee not even trying to catch up anymore. He might’ve not signed up for working together in the first place, but if he signed up to watch a soap where nobody knows anything, he'd just stay on board and browse the Nod for shows. 

“What're you thinking?!” Sangare caught up with Kanno and reached out to grab the hem of his jacket, side-bumping a miniature tree on his way and swaying it. Its leaves rustled in an anticlimactic way. “This is your–” 

Kanno spun around to face him, tugging the jacket away from his grasp. 

“I know!”, he snapped, “That's why I stopped you! We stood no chance!”

They froze, tense and breathing deeply. Vee tore a silvery green leaf from the tree and started examining it in the light, falling through the glass dome. There was a complex net of thin veins, running through its whole length. Nice sight. 

“She wouldn't tell!”, Kanno continued after catching breath. “The girl was there, Vee was there!” His hand unwittingly winded up around Sangare's wrist, calm and steadying despite his fresh anger. “I won’t put everyone at risk. Let's look for another way.”

Sangare said nothing, but relaxed and processed Kanno's words for a moment, finishing with a solemn nod and gripping back at his arm. They both took a breath and looked around in search of the exit. 

“Speaking of which.” Vee flicked the leaf off with two fingers and stepped on it once it fell to the floor. “Vee is still here and bored out of his mind. Knowing what's going on might be helpful.” 

They looked as if they were seeing him for the first time. Sangare answered “Need-to-know basis” and glanced with surprise at Kanno, who added a dismissive “Not now”. Vee glared at them and stomped ahead. 

They left in silence. After boarding the car, picking from the destination menu and lifting off, Kanno kept absent-mindedly flicking between minimized screens of his 'top – maybe waiting for a message from Anya to come. That was a first. 

“Is the HQ place as shitty as Nova?” Vee sprawled backwards on his seat, leaning on the front one’s backrest and looking between his teammates. 

“You'll fall down and I won't be fixing you”, Kanno said from over his holotop. Sangare gave an actual answer, with a bonus smile. 

“Security's less annoying. I mean, no wonder, it's full of soldiers.”

“Just don't introduce yourself as disruptive influence and you'll be fine”, Kanno added without turning his head to Vee, or leaving the screens alone. Still, he wasn’t able to control the corners of his lips, trembling a bit. 

“I was the only interesting thing in there, ingrate.”

“Give him some credit.” Sangare grinned at Kanno while gently patting Vee’s shoulder. Vee arched into the touch and felt stupid for it. “Oswald's face changed for a second. I could never accomplish that as a kid and I was the one to fall into her office through the window. She's used to kids pulling shit, but...”

The screen in front of Kanno grew abruptly under his finger and swished to the side to cover his face. He failed to hold back laughter, all the while trying to rant about ruining his professional image. 

Vee smiled too. This script Kanno had was nice, he should use it all the time. Sangare froze for a moment, his hand still on Vee’s shoulder, sliding limply down. 

“I... think I found another best thing”, he said in an absent tone and Kanno lowered the screen, his usual frown back in place. “About hearing. Laugh more often.”

The car stopped in front of the HQ – a black, polygonal, burned-out hole in the landscape. It didn’t even have windows and an additional crack in the skyline, called the navigation tower, went up from it. What Sangare just said must’ve lowered the bar immensely, since the eyesore started to look appealing.

“Can we bring need-to-know basis back?”, Vee said, getting off. It didn't help that Kanno lingered in his seat for a few more seconds, as if he had some extremely obvious revelation. Sangare helping him up did no good to un-glitch him. Vee should’ve blown up the Academy and them both when he had the chance. 

Vee had only seen the outside of the nest before. He wasn't sure what he’d expected from the inside before an un-glitched Kanno opened up all the entry gates – maybe lots of metal and a Young Wolf-type junkyard – but it hadn't been a slick, elegant interior, paved with black and red lab-grown marble. Several levels of bridges, stairs and pavements lined it and led to rows of tall doors, each with a unique security lock. The only thing missing in the design were the omnipresent plants that seemed to clutter every single facility in the upper rings with too much money put into it. 

Apparently most Warmongers got sent on permanent duty higher up, because of the so-called war. There might’ve been fewer people in uniforms around here than there usually would – still, too many for comfort. Vee noticed Sangare stick closer to him and wondered if he really looks scared and pathetic enough to warrant this shit. Kanno, of course, looked as usual, already on his way to the roof docks. 

Vee quickened to catch up with him at the translucent platforms serving as elevators, bumped into some walking skyscraper along the way and shoved it aside. The nearest platform inched up and lit blue on Kanno's soft tapping around it, active and ready to go up. 

“Sergeant!”

The voice was accompanied by a shove to Vee’s back. 

“I’m aware you have clearance for one, but have it trained in greeting procedures.” 

A burly  blond in  a tracksuit was staring them down. He bobbed his chin at Vee. 

Vee tensed up, ready to react without second thought about the other's massive build. Ready to jump. His stare snapped to the walking skyscraper’s face, ready to-

- _he is large, light-haired and he lunges_ -

The Warmonger stilled.

_-hand at his neck, a plug-_

Comprehension crept upon his face. 

–” _You’ll go as far as your father”–_

Then, Sangare's arm was around Vee’s shoulders. He stood up straight in front of the other Warmonger; slighter, but taller and looking down at the tip of his blond head. Vee was on the verge of backing out in fear.

“He's our team member.” Sangare’s tone stayed informational. “Train yourself to memorize it.”

The blond didn't flinch. 

“My casual wear doesn’t release you from procedures, corporal”, he said, tone even. “ Report yourself with your robot for disciplinary action.”

“Listen here, you little–”

Vee made an effort to speak, through a storm of memories. No point being scared if he didn’t know why, if he can’t even match the guy’s face to his memory storage. Sangare's hand tightened around his arm. He prepared to shake it away and show the asshole his place. Another, smaller frame held him off. Kanno waved for them to step back and looked up, brisk and unflinching. 

“Pardon my subordinates’ language. I assure you I’ll have it dealt with. Internally. However, your language is not permitted per protocol number fifty. Sir”, he said, locking eye contact. The skyscraper snorted and opened his mouth to answer, when two others called from the top of the staircase. 

“Soren! Assembly!” 

He glanced behind, then back to Kanno. 

“Report to me at eight sharp, sergeant.” 

The remaining two Warmongers called out one more time. The skyscraper turned around on his heel and left, leaving Vee standing still for a few more seconds, before the others prodded him to the platform. 

He didn’t talk on their way up, staring down, trying to figure out the ripping, clenching sensation deep down. When they got off the platform and into the hangar between two rows of ships, Sangare caught up with him. He looked like he wanted to ask something stupid, like “Are you okay”. Vee stopped, folding his arms. 

“Fine. No thanks to you”, he said, aware that he couldn’t have managed. Aware of the fear that had clouded everything, that he couldn’t explain. Sangare opened his mouth, suddenly lost for words. “I don't need you playing saviors.”

“We didn’t–”, the other began a shit justification or failed apology, but got cut off by Kanno, who’d heard his own name. 

“Guys. He's Conrad's son. Transferred here from an elite unit in the First, when all soldiers were being moved up there, and nobody knows why.” He looked around before talking, but the hangar was empty. “He’ll do anything to take the lead and get back up. Anti-AI, too, so he probably wants to have us disbanded and kick you from the structures.”

Sangare drew a breath, face understanding all of a sudden. Vee stopped caring. 

“You think I wanted to be in your shit structures in the first place? You think you–” Words were pouring out at random, before he processed them. “–think you were any better? For defending me when the protocol is right?”

The echo bounced off the ships for a while after he finished. His right mic glitched once again, making him cringe. 

“Throwing you out of the structures doesn't equal setting you free.” Whatever, Kanno-boy. “And private Vee? However friendly our team’s relations, I’m still your superior and you will remember that.”

“Ah, sure” Vee paced to the Young Wolf. He could use boarding it and maybe one more go at kicking the old punching bag. “I have two superiors that almost got us executed at Oswald’s over… I don’t know what.”

The last words never fully formed until they reached his vocal adapter, both weird and satisfying. Tapping for the platform to come up, he fully intended to ignore whatever noise would come from Kanno’s mouth.

“I would've told you anyway.” For someone trying to convince him, Kanno did a poor job of looking convinced himself. “It was about my brother.”

Vee hadn’t intended to listen. Just a second before, he really hadn’t. 

“You could've given me a heads-up sooner.” He left the platform. “What about him?”

Kanno seemed as surprised at Vee listening as Vee was. 

“He's been missing for nine years”, he replied, leaning against the nearest ship's side. “He got deployed early, along with Sangare. That's what they do when someone rebels but still has the skills. No contact with either of us since.”

Both Vee and Sangare took a step closer. Better to be quiet this time around. 

“He was… He's my best friend. No trace in the PKC's resource base, either. Nothing in fatality records”, Sangare added and Vee recalled the search history of Kanno's holotop. “The sergeant he was deployed under had nothing to do with him at work. Wasn't able to tell who had. Got KIA soon after.”

“Shingo’s both a science and combat officer, like Riviera. An instructor said he should've gotten assigned to Novatronica, not with us.” Kanno finished and they both went quiet. 

A multitude of scrambled memories surfaced in Vee’s sight, but beyond his reach. _Kanno, cuffed and panicking_ . Break. Was Break Vee’s brother as well? Sister? “Best friend” could cut it, if it even mattered. Then, there was a memory of disembodied words, uttered in a previous lifetime, maybe by Vee’s past owner. Still, since a context or consequences were missing from the records, the words held no value. 

“Warmongers had a few projects.” He raised his visor with uncertainty. “Secret ones, where they cut people off.”

“We thought about that”, Kanno said.

Felt strange to look at those guys: first prison guards, then inmates and now someone who shared a similar loss. For a moment Break’s name lingered in his vocal adapter, ready to be said. 

Break would've warned him against trusting. Init, with his code flawlessly overwritten, would've agreed. 

He was not yet sure what Vee would do. 

“Sorry I'm late! I got lost three times over!” 

A sharp voice and a platform’s static hum made them turn heads. Anya sat on the platform, her pose far too dynamic for its sluggish float. 

Kanno pinched the bridge of his nose and said “You were supposed to call me”. 

And help us avoid the shit that just went down here, Vee added to himself. 

Walking through the ship's own hangar (compared to the dock, looking like a maintenance closet) Anya stuck behind Vee and stared, like back in the Academy. By the time they got to the canteen, he lost it and stared back, making a face he hoped to look scary. Clearly, it didn't. She blinked twice and stated the obvious: 

“You're a–”

“Finish whatever you’re about to say–” Vee stuck out his hand to cover her mouth and wipe off her face whatever she had there. He was having a bad day already. “And I'll chuck you out into the vacuum. Understood?” 

She mumbled something, probably involving them being inside an Ascendancy, into Vee’s hand, but nodded. He risked pulling his hand away and, on making sure she wouldn't finish, proceeded to answer. 

“Yeah, I'm AI and you're a brat. Neither of us should be on this ship, but here we are.” 

A grin and a reply of “You kidding? This is awesome!” was not what he’d predicted, but neither had been anyone worse than himself. 

“So... Can you shoot lasers? Fly? What's your skill?”

“Organizing, checking health, friendly conversation, storing data and sending them to my owner’s ‘top when they need it” was the least cool answer in history, so Vee gave up. He managed to proclaim “Drawing dicks” loud and clear enough before Kanno interfered and smacked him up the head. 

The evening, spent on finding the rest of the team and finding Anya a – as Kanno put it – trunk she could sleep in, was just as chaotic as the whole day. Vee wouldn't be surprised if he hadn't recorded even half of it on his drive. He didn't check either way. The fact that he found himself pleased on reaching the residential area only added up to the weirdness. In his defense, he’d planned to prod the addresses the H had shown him; maybe figure out some kind of rule which governed the messages, popping up elsewhere every time. 

There was a hand on his shoulder just as he was swiping his lock – set up at last – and stepping into the doorway. He greeted the sight of Sangare, his other arm around Kanno (for all it seemed, preventing him from running away), with mild exasperation. 

“What now?”

First Sangare prepared to talk, but Kanno held him back, only to stay silent for a few more seconds and create a distinct impression of either choking back his own words, or having eaten something straight out of the Young Wolf's fridge. Vee needed to roll his visor and make a show out of entering the room to have him emit words. 

“Vee...” Kanno started looking for the right word somewhere on the wall behind Vee’s back. “Go rest.” 

After reciting this with the speed of beam gunshots, while vibrating in an effort to use a calm tone, he returned to examining the wall. Sangare made a face and took up. 

“Translating from Kanno speak, he cares about you.”

“Of course he does, I’m adorable.” Once again, Vee felt himself smiling – not consciously – and worried about his primary code activating. He knew he was being let off easy, but he'd be apprehensive about that later. “I got it. We look out for the Soren guy. See you tomorrow.” 

On a whim, he felt like adding “Take Kanno somewhere to get over the shock”, but didn't. Annoying Kanno stopped being on his priority list. 

His entire stay here was a mess. 


	10. Keeping Peace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: police/army violence, and if you don't like messed-up romantic dynamics happening due to stupid decisions people make from stress, this chapter is not for you either (then again, in that case why are you reading this story)

“And where will the Three, nay, make it Four Cavaleros go from here?”, Nic mused to the tune of some improvised melody, stretching their legs to put them in Anya's lap. If the kitchen chairs weren't attached to the floor, they would've already tripped every single one in the process. “Stay tuned.”

Anya’s training session with Sangare and Vee had escalated out of the training room and into the canteen, where everyone else had been trying to eat, and was enough to warrant a piece of narration straight out of a low-budget action show. Vee would've still gone on if humans weren't made of shit materials that got tired after an hour or two. Also, if Kanno hadn't forcefully sat them down, stopping them from further slamming into furniture.

“Hopefully they'll proceed to kick me out of the combat squad”, Alice said without raising her eyes from her holotop, where she kept flicking through unspecified Nod pages, while biting on an energy bar and marking her territory with crumbs. “Let me tell you how happy I'll be”, she added and made a point out of rolling her eyes at Kanno, who mumbled something about salary cuts, while digging in the fridge for leftover coffee cans. “You can't cut me, Shinya, our unit's on minimum wage.”

Vee propped his back against Sangare, who had just come back with an energy bar of his own, and they both, mesmerized with the realization that “Kanno” is not Kanno's first name, watched him use a crowbar to detach the last coffee can, frozen over to a fridge wall.

“Hey!” Alice spun one screen on her finger and grimaced. “Can I have a propaganda translator here? Kar? What the hell are supplementary security measures that were once of great aid in protecting... Wait, it goes on... the populace from the riots in the wake of implementing homogeneity... Policy.” Her fake smile bordered on disgust. “You know what, read it yourself, the logical lapse burned my brain.”

Sangare reached over the heads of Anya and Nic – preventing the former from pestering the latter to draw something on her arm – and grabbed the screen from Alice's finger. Vee and Anya peered through his shoulder as he extended the screen. Nic grasped at the opportunity to smile at Anya and say “Maybe later, when I know you better”.

“Alright! When even the smart one gives up–” Sangare cracked his knuckles and pretended to punch through the screen, careful not to disperse it. “–leave it to a pro – oh shit, they're bringing back the cameras.”

Everyone was looking over his shoulder by now, including Kanno, who lost interest in his coffee. Vee didn't want to ask stupid questions; besides, he had one blurry memory that could explain the big deal away.

“ _It’s an incentive to join the PKC. I recommend disabling the monitoring”, a human said._ Must’ve been after the first AI recoded themselves. Before the time of Break and Leta.

“Only on the surface, though...”, Nic said quietly and Sangare scoffed:

“Because that makes things better”.

Kanno examined the screen with narrowed eyes and asked:

“It's because of the riots? When the H broadcasted?”

Vee’s first reflex was commenting on his lukewarm attitude, but at this moment everyone’s holotops lit up, in their pockets and on the table. He grabbed his own and pulled a screen, just as a row of other ones cluttered the room. A message with the Headquarters' ID code.

“Move out!” Kanno ordered, already one foot through the door. “Riviera, Laszlo, stay put. Combat squad, Fifth Ascendancy!”

They took care of the briefing while running to get the chasers. The Fifth Ascendancy was riot-ridden. Inhabitants of the Sixth had taken a few cargo liners from their factories and moved up. The message failed to explain why an AI crime prevention unit was one of the number assigned to hold them back from going further. Then again nobody had to reiterate that Kanno's unit should take any task thrown at them, be it traffic moderation or garbage disposal.

“Vee, I... doubt there will be any, but connect and look for AI activity”, Kanno sighed while swiping his finger on Alice's chaser. Vee tapped his forehead with one finger three times while looking at him. He truly never learned.

He was all but ready to jump in behind Kanno and argue some more about principles, but got held off by Kanno himself, inviting Anya to the backseat.

“For now, this one needs supervision. Go to Kar.” He cut all discussions short, leaving Vee inexplicably offended.

“She's stealing my disruptive show, man...”, he whined, settling behind Sangare and casually leaning on his back, as usual. In return, he only got an indiscernible hum. Weird, for a walking thesaurus.

They lifted off and sped above the Headquarters to the bypass airway, interconnecting all Ascendancies with a helical chain. Kanno’s chaser flew past them and his calm voice coming from the front panel's comm filled the cockpit:

“They're gonna barricade the bypass with cargo liners and move up to the Fourth. We better hurry.”

Sangare made a gesture as if he wanted to mute the thing, but gave up, said “Whatever” and added “Grab a helmet” in Vee’s general direction. Something was off and Vee didn't know what.

A few other PKC chasers sped past, plunging below, towards the denser traffic of the Fifth. Vee saw on the console that Kanno and the other pilots had sent a Nod signal for the other vehicles to let them through and nudged Sangare in the side to turn on his. What do you know, he was being useful.

“Wanna connect me and take a break?”, he asked on a whim, internally aware that “because my teammate is acting weird” was a crappy reason by his own standards. A vehement no came as a relief.

The traffic slowed down and grew in density. It got harder to maneuver and avoid losing Kanno from sight, among civilian vehicles unable to make way for all the Warmongers. A large shape filled the horizon in front of them. A row of lamps lined its contours, making it seen in the humid, chemical mist, denser than what usually filled the airways around the lower rings.

“First liner”, Kanno said in the speaker. “There's a clearing above it, we're heading there. Let's make it fast, Zatorski's gonna lose her stomach from excitement in here.”

The chaser in front of them broke off from the traffic and surged up, leaving an opening in the mist for them to follow. They flew underneath the airway's upper arches where the mist cleared a little and the opening above the gradually raising liner was showing.

“What's with the fog?”, Vee mumbled, his voice oddly deep inside the helmet. He didn't expect Sangare to answer.

“Not fog. Paralyzing gas.” Either it was the helmet, or he was speaking through his teeth. He took a few slow, rhythmical breaths. They didn’t help with his pulse at all. “Protesters were surfing the liner. Keep your helmet on, chaser's old.”

Vee didn’t bother to correct him.

The clearing was hardly there and Kanno sped up in front of them, aiming right under the arches’ peak. Sangare turned to Vee and shoved something into his hand. Nod cord from under the console. Vee shot him a glance, but was met with a face that cut all discussions. He grabbed the cord, pushed his helmet up and connected, immediately setting course at the clearing through the front cams. They caught up with Kanno and flew through at arm's length from his tail.

“Hurry up, they’re clearing the area here”, Kanno spoke on intra as a pathway between the liner's battered walls and the airway's upper arch zoomed past the window. His tone didn't change, but he got quiet, adding “They're blowing up the liner.”

The pathway opened up and the giant vehicle's shape vanished. In front of them, the ragged skyline of the Fifth emerged from thinning clouds of gas. Other Warmonger chasers shot out from the clearing. From the comm came Anya’s shrill voice.

“Can’t they just, like, apprehend them?”

Vee couldn't help himself and stood up, leaning closer against Sangare's back and shouting into the microphone:

“We didn’t apprehend AI in the power plant on my first mission, suck it up, kid!”

Sangare’s shoulders shook just a little, so he sat back and followed Kanno down between the buildings.

The only apparent difference between the Fifth and the surface was daylight. Both the sun and the satellites could reach all rings freely, but got blocked by the rings themselves down below. Vee hadn't admired the views before, back when he’d been tracking the H; now, apart from the light, the cityscape seemed just as maze-like, with multi-storey residential buildings, as the surface, if a few years newer. He recalled that the organics inhabiting the place were basically lucky surface-dwellers who had seized one corporate job or another, but hadn't really compared before.

A swarm of Warmonger vehicles cluttered the air around them. Someone at the front switched on a siren and others followed suit. In front of Vee, Sangare winced, but come to think of it, Vee didn't exactly care enough to ask. He took them down among the buildings, scanning the streets with all cameras.

Another cargo liner, blocking the broadest junction, caught his eye first. A couple dozens of organics were pouring out, surrounding and climbing atop of it. Warmonger vehicles swirled in the air to encroach upon them. Some humans held up signs: boards with slogans and schematic drawings, one of them with a familiar face and pink hair.

No, this was wrong – she hadn’t gotten caught for humans.

Two organics ran to opposite sides of the liner, stretching something long and white from one to the other. They signaled simultaneously and spread the white object along the side of the ship – a large piece of garment with letters painted over.

DID YOU FORGET WHERE YOU'RE FROM?

It was then when the first human clutched at their neck and fell to the ground in a fit of convulsions.

The chasers landed. Kanno jumped out first, a distressed Anya at his heels. Vee glanced at Sangare before following, bewildered with the scene. The other didn’t look back, all but ready to push him out the cockpit without a word.

“They'll wanna set an example”, he said eventually. “When there was no collars... They had drones.”

“So you War–” This was when Vee got grabbed by the jacket and gently set outside.

The crowd stirred, surrounding the human that had fallen; voices filled the junction. The swarm that had led Vee through the air now sat on the ground, around the protesters. Some vehicles cracked open, spilling Warmongers and beam cannons.

Anya searched around with her stare, trying to disappear behind a much shorter Kanno, lost for words.

“What are we- What are they doing, those people didn’t attack first! That’s against– Against–” Her voice trembled. Kanno stood still, without reaction, glancing at his ‘top and waiting for orders.

Sangare didn’t move from the chaser.

A hovercar with dark spots of speakers on its roof spiraled in the air above the cargo liner and searched out a landing spot, in the middle of all Warmonger craft. Out emerged a familiar, burly figure, face lit by an arched screen in front of it.

Soren Conrad lifted a hand to the screen, bringing up a circular panel, and tapped it in three places. Screams raised again above the crowd, as three more humans fell to the ground in fits and the speakers atop the hovercar boomed with Soren's voice.

“All participants of this gathering are under arrest for riot mongering and disregard for the Republic's Proclamation of Authority. Any attempt at resistance will be met with exemplary penalty. Calling all units to seize–”

The rest was drowned by an uproar on both sides of the liner; humans climbing the make-do barricade, Warmongers opening magnetic shields, a couple of chasers shooting up into the air, sirens on. Shots from beam guns mixed with a rumble of a distant explosion – the liner up on the airway must’ve blown up. Vee tensed and Kanno didn't even manage to fold his screen or react when Anya’s pale, bony figure stopped curling behind him and ran ahead; pushing through the crowd, avoiding traffic, aim fixed on Conrad’s towering figure.

“Zatorski!” The second he noticed, Kanno shot forward as well, raising his voice over the cacophony of screams and sirens. Vee ran behind without a thought. “What are you–”

Anya pushed aside three Warmongers on her way, jumped onto a roof of a parked chaser and bounced off its front pane, straight onto the patch of clear ground where the hovercar stood. Her head snapped just a notch to Kanno as she called “Keeping peace!” and, with a swirl, punched a dumbfounded Conrad straight in the face.

She had but a second to take a deep breath, full of pride, and take in the effect she’d caused. The moment she stood straight, a hand reached to grab her wrist and Soren dragged her down to the ground, while scrambling up himself, bringing the screen back with his free hand and pulling up the serial scanning panel. Vee and Kanno caught up, the latter running up to the officer and the struggling girl, and flinching as Conrad’s finger flicked through the console; small, terrified.

“No, wait–”, he shouted and Vee had never seen him lose it like this. “–Sir.”

The last word was spoken almost out of breath. Anya touched her collar with shaky fingers, checking if it's still there; if it's still off.

Soren Conrad's eyes inched up from the console, his fingers a hair's width from touching the screen. He examined Kanno like he would look at a funny holo online, moved on to Vee and something dawned upon his face.

“You know what, you're right.” Mouth stretched in disdain, he hefted Anya up by her wrist. Her face was no longer frightened, but ablaze with indignation as she attempted to tear her hand out of his grasp. “You’ll get useful instead.”

Three different Warmongers were called back from the field, to cuff and escort them to a transporter, where they came across a fourth soldier, leading Sangare. The cacophony of battle – if one could call this battle at all – was quieting down and would soon be over.

“Hey”, Vee said with a half-smile, mad at himself that he’d now look for at least limited contact if his hands weren't cuffed behind his back. “We're suspended.”

Sangare didn't smile back, but entered the transporter by himself and sat on a bench there, closing his eyes.

“Good”, he said, more to himself than to Vee, “because I'm not doing this anymore.”

***

Judging by the face Kanno made when they were brought to face commander Conrad, suspension within the HQ until further orders was bad news. Judging by Kanno and Conrad’s conversation, when it did, the orders wouldn’t contain paperwork or anything safe. Still, Kanno clearly regrew the stick up his ass when he listened to the verdict, when they were escorted to the Young Wolf and when his cuffs were removed. Sangare kept calm as well, but avoided looking anyone in the eye. Anya's shoulders and chest kept shaking, about to blow up in rage, tears or both. Vee wanted to see Break.

“That's gonna make Riviera's day”, Kanno said as soon as they were back on board. The bridge was dark, console powered off and temporarily locked for their use. He then looked around the group, raising his voice from a mumble to his regular level. “Alright, everyone. The orders–”

“Fuck your orders. And her lack of basic survival instinct.”

It wasn't even Vee this time around. Sangare looked at Kanno, then at Anya, then turned on his heel and left without a third look, the silence after his echo died out somehow even more piercing than the one before. For a couple of seconds, Kanno stood with mouth open mid-word, like a paused holo: still, but flickering at its core with movements of air.

“Kan- I mean, sir–” The faltering voice and quiet steps didn’t resemble Anya at all. She fumbled with the ends of her hair, unsure whether to toss it to the back or leave it, finally deciding to pat it down awkwardly on her chest. Just like that, someone played the flickering holo again and Kanno looked at her, relaxing.

“You're still here?” If Vee had never enhanced his sensors around Kanno, if he had never heard the tiniest strain in his voice, he’d never have realized something was off. “Report to Riviera for cleaning duty. You'll take Laszlo's turn and mine, too. Not sure what’s commonplace at the orphanage, but we don't tolerate this kind of behavior around here.”

Anya breathed, about to say something, but once her eyes met Kanno's, she saluted and left.

Vee perched on the edge of the chair Kanno had invited him to sit on back on his first day at the bridge. It wasn’t even comfortable. From the sidelines, he watched Kanno wait until the door slid shut, cast a frantic look around, punch the nearest wall and curl in pain around his balled-up fist, cursing profusely. The low, metallic echo still resonated all over the bridge when he deflated and noticed Vee.

“I don't even have a reason to reprimand you this time, can't you just go?” Kanno sank into the other chair, contradicting his own words. For once it was Vee who just sat there, at a loss how to react.

A list of options flicked through his head. Actually leaving – safe. Leaning in and taking Kanno’s hands as if they were Break’s – illogical, weird, for whatever reason tempting. Grabbing him and shaking back to his asshole self – familiar. Nagging anger at the fact that somehow, the team hadn’t fallen apart like this back in the power plant – logical.

“I could switch the thing on, I think.” He nudged the console. If Kanno told him to leave again, he would. “Break the roof and fuck off in style? What do you say?”

No order to leave followed, so Vee went for the hands.

“Last time I let you near a vehicle, you...” Kanno hesitated when Vee’s fingers touched his, but allowed it. “Wiped the proxy was the phrase? Besides, where would we go?”

The anger still nagged – not blinding, not ripping. Just sort of there. Vee wouldn’t act on it, too exhausted, too overloaded with data from all the weirdness he’d gotten into. Too surprised when Kanno’s hands wrapped around his, fingers entwining.

“I appreciate the idea, though.”

Kanno cracked a smile, if one could call it the small twinge of his lips, hardly creasing the corners. He said something more, one word. Vee had to rewind his registers for the word seconds later, to find nothing but the touch of hands and a detailed image of Kanno’s thin lips. Great. The moment he decided to be nice, he glitched. Instead of answering, he moved his thumb along the edge of Kanno’s palm – and stopped as suddenly as he had begun.

Vee’s default sensors were ridiculously maxed-out already. Of course he could feel attraction. He just had shit timing.

“You’re into him, huh?” Vee looked out the front pane. A bunch of swear words came up in his memory, deriding him for pursuing the topic. “Sangare”, he explained. “That’s why you’re so pissed?”

The hands were about to pull away – and Vee slackened his grip, because maybe it would be for the best (wait, no!) – but they stayed, and Vee stayed too.

“Not your business.”

“It’s not. But I’m right.” Vee leaned in, the anger still stirring somewhere deep.

Just like that, Kanno’s cold was back. He sat straight, withdrawing his hands. Chair creaking, jacket rustling in his hand – he was up, walking to the door. Vee’s scripts launched off their own accord. Get up. Catch balance, stupid chair. Run, grab his shoulder. Pause, flicking through scripts at random once he turned around.

“Yeah, you’re–” Words did their thing and Kanno didn’t try to yank his hand away. “You’re right, not my business. Just curious, why you’re not doing–”

Vee went silent when a hand covered his mouth. Just fingertips, just for show, not to muffle him. Kanno held it up for a few seconds – slouching, quiet, eyes down, strange – before Vee took it in his. Slowly setting both their hands down, he could feel the other ease into the hold, shift closer. The dormant anger gave way to exhaustion and to a new spark, when Vee lifted his other arm to wrap around Kanno’s waist and draw him in. Hold him and, with visor closed, clear the buzzing of data inside. Replace it with the feeling of his hands, closing on the small of Vee’s back.

“Just don’t dance with me anymore.” He registered the words this time. Or just their vibration, with Kanno pressing his face to Vee’s shoulder. “I hated it.”

“Of course you did.”

Vee squeezed a little tighter. Some random script had him press his mouth to the other’s hair, right above the temple. Just a second, and another – then they broke apart. With one sharp breath, Kanno looked up, eyes wide ( _with panic_ – no, just confusion, just a memory). Just another second, not a move, not a sound. Then both leaned in, closing the space between their lips.

Exhaustion gave way to the spark, to a “finally”. If Vee enhanced his sensors now, he’d crash.

_She is white now, slender, with blond hair. Piles of meat, coming and going in a haze of memory._

Lips, gently brushing his own. Touch leaving sparks of light under his skin. Sudden datadump echo; a twinge of fear.

 _A human, pulling her hand. She has blue hair and this is only a vessel_.

The kiss deepened, just like in shows, on screen – easy, _he drags her out_ . Shaky breath warmed his neck and the nice, heady feeling – _he rips out her hair. Her hands at his eyes_. No.

_My first clear memory. Do you like it?_

No, no, fuck no.

Vee made his hands move up to Kanno’s shoulders, _made them stop there_ , shoved him away. All sensors raged in protest when the warmth was gone, panic flashed.

“So I was wrong”, Vee said, “and you like yourself a robot? Didn’t have an H-type around?”

For a beat, Kanno just stood there. Defenseless, as if he got slapped. As if he didn’t know. Anger stirred again, then roared and burst out in garish colors.

“You’re sick.” Vee threw all the anger out in two words; before his visor, or somewhere deep, the H and her many faces. Many hands – on her, on him, it didn’t matter. He threw it out and the beat was over, and the anger flew back at him, reflected in Kanno’s eyes.

“You.” A hand shot forth again and grabbed his wrist, not gentle anymore. Pulled, shoved Vee to the exit. Then Kanno turned away – not quickly enough to hide going back from angry to defenseless. “Leave.”

I will – Vee didn't feel like gracing him with saying it aloud. He shoved the hand away and stormed to the door.

“You're worth each other, you and him.” At least now nothing clouded his thoughts and they formed into words. “No remorse until it’s humans.”

The door, sliding in silence to its place behind him, not slamming, felt anticlimactic – but Vee didn't think of scene propriety while riding down. Instead, he considered erasing the record of previous minutes from his memory. Kanno’s hands on his back, of their lips joined together. Reciprocation. He started the erasure process, stopped it, cursed a couple of times, realized that he was repeating Kanno's curses and stomped out to the residential area.

He didn't recode himself for this idiot to fuck with his head and make it personal.

Door code, bed, holotop, Nod cord. The room opposite Vee’s was locked and silent. At least he could focus on searching without organics interfering. Shoving aside all the Kanno from his head, he pulled up the addresses he had from the H. One after another. There had to be a sequence of numbering, something had to be next. The signal was being sent from somewhere to elsewhere. Rejecting the possibility that it never was kept him going.

He should have a bunch of possible sequences by now – he pulled a list of all connections from an address. That's what Break would do – he set up background tracing for the first batch. That's what K-types do – maybe there was no sequence at all. How could he crack it, how could he recode himself and still work like a K-type if he was faulty in the first place?

One long-dead connection after another, his log filled up with tons of garbage to be deleted. Vee began furiously erasing (maybe he'd erase the kiss by accident and stop being such a wimp, too) and halted the process before reaching a row of codes, different from the others.

A fresh connection to one of the servers functioning beyond the central cluster since forever, from one of Nova's. A large file consisting of far more than just text or sound – images, impressions; even one known face. Made by an AI. Familiar.

 _We are still here_. The face belonged to the H-type.

What could he do now? Reply? Trace? He launched an outbound traffic search on reflex, weeding out dead connections until another fresh one popped up. Sent from somewhere on the surface. Data collage – AI. Text block – human.

 _We are alive_.

***

The first steps outside the gate turned out overwhelming.

Ink couldn’t tell what they had expected. Definitely not being suddenly light-headed and flooded with vastness.

“Aki?” They turned around to refocus their visors and thoughts. Both hands grasped at the fabric of their dress, concentrating on the texture. “What is 'We are still here, we are alive' about? Reminds you of anything? There was no context.”

Aki waved once more to the window where Misora stood, and ran up to Ink. His running would never be perfect, but it got better.

“No idea. Teaser campaign?” He reached out to brush Ink’s elbow, like he always did with his mother and sister. He held back again, hand falling slack just a fraction from Ink’s arm. “Come on.”

Ink had come across the words somewhere along the Paranod, during yet another maintenance. Aika had claimed she didn’t know either, while launching some process Ink hadn’t caught. Then again, she had also claimed she hadn’t deciphered Ink’s memories. All while throwing them concerned looks, when she thought they wouldn’t notice.

As they walked, Aki chattered, a rapid fire of anecdotes about every single place they passed. He kept glancing around all the time, on a lookout for who knows what. All his fussing grew many levels of frustrating – especially given his inexplicable fear of laying a finger on Ink – but perhaps was justified, seeing how each passer-by stared.

“Misora's warming up to you?” Aki skipped topics when Ink turned around to see whatever he was showing, the flare of their dress twirling along. A nice swish of blue in mid-air. “You’re swapping clothes.”

“I stole this one, actually”, Ink said, posing to flaunt the dress, prouder than they should be.

They had – but Misora hadn’t exactly minded, rolling her eyes and saying “at least it looks half-decent on you”. Aki laughed after listening to the story.

“I mean, in Misora speak it’s like acceptance to the tribe – what is it?” His hand hovered over Ink’s forearm again but it didn't matter this time around. Ink already gazed off onto the other end of the sidewalk, tensing up, ready to run.

Black and red still launched alarm in their system. On this street, a middle-aged human in a brand new hovercar would alone feel like a threat. But now the human was talking to two Warmongers; then, everything happened at once. A soldier striding closer. Aki stepping in front of Ink. Ink nudging him aside and Aki gasping, to regain composure when looked at.

“What seems to be the problem?” Aki's voice got deeper, sterner, strained. The soldier noticed him; her features softened, but she didn't step down.

“Asano's kid, huh? Okay, I know about your clearance but let me scan you to be sure.”

“Owning those is banned higher up for a reason, you know!”, the man in the car called from behind the soldier’s back, his voice shrill. The Warmonger woman pulled out a scanner and Aki flipped his palms up. Even looking at his tense shoulders hurt.

“Just swipe it wherever, you know I'm practically a machine by now.”

“You're really not.” Perhaps it was no time or place for Ink to say that, but Aki loosening up, smiling in silent apology, was worth the risk. The officer swiped the scanner around his chest without conviction.

“He has ownership clearance, alright.” She waved off the man in the car and faced Aki once more, ignoring his protest at the word “ownership”. “But don't leave home like that again.”

A flash of anger, a sinking feeling in Ink’s chest – nothing out of the norm. They took a step back home – back to the house – to stay safe for another day when Aki's voice had them frozen in their track.

“Leave like what? With a friend?”

“With an android. Dismissed.”

The officers were gone, the man hid back in his hovercar with a glare and Ink gestured for Aki to follow them back.

“Come. You don't need...” They broke off, holding out a hand and hesitating at the sight of Aki's face. “You didn't need to do any of that.”

Again, a hand reaching out for Ink’s; again, Aki held back. “I'd...” Again, the same uncertain expression. “I'd do the same for my whole family. I'm sorry if...”

Just one move from Ink and their hands entwined, and the haze melted off at Ink’s fingertips, and the world felt real again.

“If you treat me like family, then why are you afraid to touch me?”

The street abandoned time, save for the artificial wind rustling leaves and wires. In any other setting – no Warmongers, no lost memories, no glowers from behind windows and fences – Aki's face would be funny. He paused mid-step, mid-word – his hand in Ink’s, or Ink’s smaller hand in his – and held his breath for a beat before speaking again.

“I... didn't want to be rude.” His voice broke the silence, as soft as the gusts of wind. “Is it fine?”

Ink clasped their hands tighter together and smiled.

“Clearly.”

Time pressed forward and they turned back to the house, slow step by slow step, as the world settled back in its pace. The melted haze was not creeping back and Aki's hand did not pull away from Ink’s ( _like another hand, sometime in the past_ ) until they reached the gates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back after a hiatus caused by a pesky plot bunny who wouldn't let up until I wrote a 22k BOTW fanfic. Hopefully for a longer while.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been at this work since 2015, with a long break for editing hell, and everyone who knows me IRL probably has enough of it already.  
> A lot of it has a distinct "I wrote this in 2015" feel but you know what? I'll embrace it. In this house we write squishy fiction and die like men.  
> Catch me on Twitter as @ma_ya_mo_ri


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